The Dark Return
by ijs1337
Summary: An old enemy, long thought defeated, returns more powerful than any could imagine. War engulfs the galaxy, and the few beings who could help save it were once among the ranks of those it must be saved from. Post-Apocalypse, AU. I'm not that good with titles. Or descriptions that don't spoil. Please review or comment.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I'm finally posting this story. This little chapter-that's-more-a-prologue is the seed of a story I've had in pieces in my head for years (since I first started writing fics, to be honest), and I decided it was time to finally sit down and do it. Also, if it's not immediately obvious, this takes place post-Apocalypse. And will be AU, for reasons I don't want to disclose, but most of you can probably guess at. I do not own Star Wars. Please, review or comment (as that's the only way I know people want to see what happens next).**

Star Wars The Dark Return

Chapter 1

She let herself sink back into the seat, and tried to figure out what she was supposed to feel.

Sorrow, she guessed. Not for those who were dead. She didn't much care for any of them. More for the ideal they strove for, what they represented, now dead as they were. For herself, for the life she had now lost.

Shock, most definitely. At how suddenly they'd been attacked, how overwhelming it had been. How she was still alive and well.

Confusion, at the mysterious man who had saved her life. She hadn't recognized him. His clothes, armor, style of fighting, all were unknown to her. But he had saved her life, so she supposed that was all she needed to know.

Now, the question of where to go. She had no doubt that all the other strongholds they'd set up were no longer safe. If they had been found and attacked in so open a manner, they could not be safe anywhere. Sighing, she resigned herself to the one choice she knew she would end up making.

Vestara could only guess as to whether she had just chosen to go to her death, after having just escaped it.

Though she found a small comfort in the fact that if she was going to die. she'd die at the hands of someone he respected. Someone she loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Fun fact: I actually had this chapter barely-written years ago, when I was first starting out in the fan-fic scene and didn't commit to continuing this idea because I had no idea how to write out what I wanted to. I've changed a great deal since then. Both in my ability to write, and in what happens in this chapter. I do not own Star Wars. Please review or comment.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 2

Ben brushed up against what seemed to be a half-buried torso. When it broke into a gray mist and was swept away by the wind, he realized it was a facsimile of ash. He gazed around him at the wasteland the Valley of the Sith Lords had been reduced to. It had always been a bit of one, but now there was no other word for it. Virtually all of the tombs were vaporized, the ground in and around for miles turned to glass from orbital laser strikes. Burned shadows littered the reflecting surface, all of them suggesting the sources had been dead by the time the strikes came.

"Well, you're right." He admitted. "Someone really did a number on this place."

Vestara, standing nearby, in stun cuffs, sighed exasperatedly.

"How exactly could I be wrong about something like this?"

"Well, you could just be lying. You're good at that." Ben winced inwardly. Both of them were trying to act as though they were just another Jedi and Sith, as though nothing had ever happened between the two of them. Easier for both of them. Or it would have been, if they'd been any good at it.

Ben let himself slide out of focus, trying to take his mind off of… whatever it was that Vestara giving herself up to Jedi custody meant. He tried to calm himself, and was surprised when he felt darkness. Acute darkness, not the residual kind that normally came with places like Sith Lord burial tombs, and not the average darkness of a typical dark Force user. This was a darkness that was tempered, that had the barest tint of light to it. He'd have almost called it gray if he didn't know better. What disturbed him about this was that the only person he figured such a feeling would be coming from wasn't the source. It wasn't Vestara. Which meant someone else like her was here.

"Please don't tell me you've lured me into an extremely elaborate trap."

"Why would I lead you into a trap?"

"You're you." There it was again. That acknowledging the thing he'd tried so hard to put behind-

"If you two could stop your bickering for one moment." A voice rang out from behind.

Ben whirled around, reaching for his lightsaber, as saw perhaps the most brutalized figure he'd ever seen. A helmet that seemed to meld different styles, Mandalorian and Ubese, complete with what looked like a series of sat atop a nightmarish body. Clad in a mix of black flexsuit and metal plates was a being who looked like a corpse animated with nothing but cybernetics. Several metallic joints and servos were clearly visible through the gaping hole that encompassed nearly everything between the right hand and bicep, and large talons seemed to have been fused over random fingers on both hands. What little skin was visible looked as dead as dead could be. A wicked-looking lightsaber hung loosely from one of several belts. A distorted, mechanical breathing drifted from him.

"You're the Skywalker boy, correct?" The figure asked.

Ben leapt at the Sith, his lightsaber blazing to life, sadly sure that again he'd been-

Bright blue lightning erupted from the Sith's hands, blasting Ben back through the air and onto the hard ground. As Ben struggled to block out the not inconsiderable pain, he dimly realized that what just happened shouldn't have been possible. The Sith was more parts than person, and Sith like that couldn't use powers like Force Lightning. But this one-

He felt himself forced to the ground again, this time with telekinesis.

"You're awfully quick to attack, for a Jedi." The Sith said, now suddenly standing over him as though he hadn't been yards away moments before.

"And you're-"

"What? A Sith?" Ben's assailant knelt, still keeping him pinned to the ground with the Force. "I'm sure you can feel a bit more in me than that. And you of all people ought to know that things are never so simple."

That sentence, and the depth of knowledge it suggested, made Ben simply react. Lash out without thinking. Throw the Sith into the glassed remains of one of the many statues, specifically.

"Quite the wound up Knight, aren't you?" The Sith called, getting to his feet. "What would your-" The Sith stopped speaking as the roar of engines drifted over the Valley.

"If you were about to mention my dad, you've got a great sense of timing." Ben said, pulling himself up from the ground.

As it hovered above the Valley, the hatch on the _Jade Shadow_ opened, and Luke Skywalker dropped onto the surface of Korriban.

The Sith started to approach Luke, slowly raising his hands.

"Skywalker, I beg y-"

Luke interrupted him by blasting him off his feet, sending him flying into the ruins of one of the tombs. The Sith quickly recovered, and tore his lightsaber from his belt. A glowing red beam slid out of the hilt, casting his features in a bloody light. "Very well. We'll do this the hard way." The Sith said.

He charged Luke, sending bolts of Force lighting at the Jedi Grand Master with one hand while keeping his saber ready in the other. Luke stood his ground against the lighting, but was quickly pressed into close quarters. The Sith was fast, faster than any other Luke had ever fought.

Fortunately for Luke, he wasn't alone. Ben was closing on the Sith's back, lightsaber at the ready. He was about to attack when a glassed column lifted itself up and smashed into him, knocking him out.

Luke pressed his attacks, driving the Sith back several steps before locking their sabers together. The Sith let one hand drop, then slid beneath Luke's saber to drive several of his talons into Luke's ankle. Luke responded by stabbing down with his lightsaber, but the Sith quickly backed away, slashing at Luke's torso and face with his talons again, drawing blood on his chest and dashing some into his eyes. Luke waited for the Sith to take advantage of the few seconds of blindness, but nothing came. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, Luke attacked again. The Sith caught Luke's saber on his, and Luke shifted, letting his left hand reach out in the Force and twist his opponent's arm at the elbow. Luke forced his saber past the Sith's guard and slashed at his torso. His saber cleaved through the flexsuit, but the Sith whirled away and slashed at Luke's cybernetic hand, burning through vital circuitry, then drove a large plate attached to his right elbow into Luke's face, knocking him back and disorientating him for a few seconds.

The Sith took his advantage this time, unleashing a blast of Force Lightning that Luke, with his hand disabled, couldn't guard against in time. The lightning swept over him, and while it was certainly painful, Luke got a strange idea. It felt as though the Sith was almost… holding back.

The sound of a lightsaber being activated cut through the sound of Force Lightning and a blue blade burst through the Sith's chest as it extended to full length. Luke looked past the Sith, expecting to see Ben on the other side.

But Ben wasn't there. Vestara Khai was, forcing the blade of Ben's saber in a bit more. Yet, Vestara saving Luke wasn't the strangest thing.

It was that the Sith. He gazed down at the blade sticking through his chest, and sighed. Sighed as though he was exasperated. Then he whirled around, not the least bit impeded by what should have been a killing blow, and blasted Vestara off her feet with a burst of Force energy.

Luke seized the opportunity. He ran forward, tossed his saber into his other hand, and drove the hilt as hard as he could into the back of the Sith's helmet, driving the man to the ground. He delivered a few more blows until he was sure the man wouldn't be getting up any time soon.

**I don't write fight scenes the often, so I hope this wasn't too unbearable. Also, in case I wasn't explicit enough, this mystery-Sith is basically a Sith Stalker in terms of appearance. Also, as to what changed, originally the mystery-Sith was supposed to take down the entire Jedi Council, who was also just standing around, more or less waiting for him to show up and not doing anything within the chapter itself aside from getting beaten. I don't suppose I need to say why that's not what happened (it's stupid and ridiculous, that's why.)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Not a whole lot to say here, beyond that in about two weeks, classes start again, so I won't be able to write as much. Just warning you all up front. I do not own Star Wars.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 3

The Jedi facility on Shedu Maad had seen some improvements in the years following its construction. One of the more recent additions had been an isolation wing, which now hosted a single, incredibly dangerous occupant.

Luke walked through the door and gazed through the transparisteel at the Sith he had fought on Korriban. The Sith who had fought him to standstill and all but shrugged off a lightsaber through his chest. The sith was currently sitting calmly on the floor of his cell in an apparent position of meditation.

"It's not easy to do what you did." Luke said. The sith remained completely motionless. Had it not been for the rasping, mechanical breathing, Luke could have easily assumed him to be dead. "You're clearly not an ordinary Sith. You're not a part of whatever sect was destroyed on Korriban, and our other prisoner doesn't recall anyone like you being a part of her former Tribe. Which begs the questions: Where are you from? And just who are you?"

The only reply Luke received was more breathing. Realizing he was doing nothing but wasting his time, Luke turned and walked out of the isolation wing.

* * *

"Someone has a truly dreadful sense of humor, leaving you to guard me." Vestara said, leaning back against the wall and rolling her wrists around inside the stun cuffs that were clapped over them.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing with you, but I have to on that point." Ben sighed. He'd tried not to talk to her, not to even look at her, and had failed somewhat spectacularly on both counts. As far as looking, it had been almost four years, fours years that had clearly been kind to her. Talking was worse, for how easily they'd fallen back into the old back-and-forth of barbs and jabs. He wasn't sure what he wished more: that they had no past to awkwardly plant itself between the two of them, or that the past had happened differently. "So, you know anything about our unkillable guest over in isolation?" He asked, not expecting an answer. Not an honest one, at any rate.

"Beyond the fact that he saved my life, I don't know anything about him."

That had Ben whirling around, giving her his full attention, but for a much more professional reason.

"He saved your life?" He asked incredulously. "You didn't think to maybe mention that sooner?"

* * *

Ben followed Vestara, still cuffed, through the door into the isolation wing. It had taken a lot of arguing and convincing that letting Ves talk to their mysterious guest was a good idea. Ben wasn't exactly sure it was a good idea himself, but he figured it was worth the risk. The sith was sitting on the floor of his cell in a meditative position, something that threw Ben. Sith meditating. He wasn't sure what he'd see next. Monkey-lizard Jedi, he decided.

"Why did you save my life?" Vestara asked. They'd figured the sith would be more willing to talk to someone who wasn't a jedi, someone like him. But looking at the man, if he could still be called one, Ben realized that maybe they were a bit in over their heads.

The sith simply sat. He didn't respond, didn't move, didn't give any indication that anything had happened. "Why did you save my life?" Vestara repeated, adding volume and an edge to the question this time. She received the same response.

"Forget it," Ben said, reaching out to take her arm to lead her back out of the room. "Dad was right. There's clearly no point in talking to this guy." He turned around, half-dragging her with him, and started towards the door.

"I saved your life in an attempt to salvage the situation." The sith's voice rang out. He was still sitting down, still hadn't even turned to face them, but he was speaking. "I thought that we had more time, but our enemy moved far quicker than I had expected them to."

Ben stopped and strode up to the transparisteel wall.

"What situation? What enemy?" He said, directing the question openly. One of the two sith in the room had to have an answer. The sith in the cell finally rose from his meditation, and turned to face the wall. He stared right at Ben, and Ben wasn't sure whether to look at the visor covering the man's eyes or the hole in his chest Vestara had burned trying to kill him.

"To tell you, Skywalker, would be futile." The sith turned away and walked to the small mirror hanging on one his cell walls. He braced his hands on the sink, and gazed at his reflection. "Believe me, I wish that wasn't the case. I wish we still had time. Time to convince your Order, your Galactic Alliance of what is coming. But we do not. All that is left to do is let the beast strike at you, that you may see firsthand what you face, rather than know of it by tale from a stranger you would not trust." He pushed away from the sink and returned to standing before the wall, looking at Ben again. "If you are still alive afterwards, perhaps we will talk more."

Ben took that as their cue to leave. He took Vestara's arm and again guided her firmly towards the door, not looking back at the sith in the cell.

"Skywalker." The sith called. "I have indulged your curiosity. I would be appreciative if you might see fit to indulge mine."

Ben turned, skepticism plastered all over his face.

"What could I possibly tell you?"

"What could you both tell me, I think. It's a simple question. Why?"

"That's a rather broad question," Vestara said. "Could you be more specific?"

"Very well: why do the two of you deny your feelings?"

That caught them both off-guard. Sure, there was some tension, but they'd-

"You both do an admirable job of concealing you emotions, but I've learned to read emotions in ways I doubt you have names for. So if you are denying those feelings, what else might you be denying?" The sith was pacing now, his voice taking on a slightly more urgent tone. "I can tell you this much in warning: war is coming. The likes of which this galaxy has never known. Were I you, I would ensure there be no doubts between me and those I care for. If life has taught me anything, it is that fate has no greater pleasure than to take those closest to us when we are least able to weather their loss."

* * *

They walked down the hall in a fairly awkward silence. Ben took it upon himself to break it.

"Well, that was… interes-"

Vestara interrupted him by spinning around, grabbing him by his robes, and yanking him forward and kissing him. He was so taken aback, he almost didn't react for a few seconds. Then instinct and the past took over, and he let himself return it. It struck him how much he missed this, missed her. He was almost angry with himself over how acutely he'd missed them. Almost.

After several minutes, they released each other.

"Mr. Doom-and-Gloom in there get to you?" Ben asked.

"Something like that."

**In case it isn't obvious, I ship Ben and Ves so much… Also, as to the last scene, if Jaina and Jag can get impromptu make-out sessions during peace-time in the official books, I'd say Ben and Ves can get one in a fanfic where a horrible war is not-so-subtly hinted at. Also, personal thing here, not to rag on you readers, but last I checked, we're at a chapter-and-a-half (that first one is more a prologue than anything, and so only counts for half) and almost one hundred views, and no-one has anything to say? (I'm a bit of a review nut, so ignore me if you don't feel inclined to review, listen to me if you do. (That said, I also appreciate reviews as a source of feedback. And feedback always helps/is welcome, whether positive or negative.)) **


	4. Chapter 4

**Prepare for violence. That is all. I do not own Star Wars. Please review.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 4

They'd pulled monitor duty. Again. This had to be the sixth week in a row they'd pulled monitor duty.

Padawan Khemal leaned back in his chair and sighed. After six weeks, he was good at monitor duty, but he hadn't learned to appreciate the mind-numbing aspect of it. The fact that he was competent made it bearable.

"Still can't believe we pulled this again."

His partner did not see things that way. After hearing so many complaints, Khemal was starting to wonder if Gron complained as a way to pass the time. That, or he was a compulsive complainer.

"Are you ever going to not complain about the dullness of this job? Not that I don't agree with you, but I feel like every other word is disparaging of our little kingdom here." Khemal said, twirling around in his chair, motioning his arms at the cramped room.

"Are you saying I complain too much?" Gron asked.

"Maybe."

Gron scoffed. "I don't complain too much, Khemal; you," he pointed a finger accusingly "don't complain enough. I have to complain more just to keep up the average."

Khemal sighed and turned back to his station, and noticed something odd. Something wrong. Something horribly wrong.

The feed was down.

"Oh, kriff, that's not good."

"What isn't?" Gron asked uncaringly.

"We've lost the feed."

"We're in the Transitory Mists, Khemal. We're going to lose-"

"I've been sitting at this station every night for the last five weeks, Gron. I know what a Mist blockout looks like, and this isn't it." Khemal cycled through the other systems, sensors, cameras, internal and external. Everything came up black. "All of the feeds are down!" Khemal yelled. That got Gron out of his chair and checking Khemal's station.

"You're serious?"

"Do I sound serious?"

"Yes, you do, but if it's not a Mist blockout, then…"

"It's almost like someone cut the feeds."

"What, manually? Like from the outside of the base?"

"That's the only… oh Force."

* * *

Vreal rose from his meditation as he felt a familiar, and unwelcome, presence enter his chambers.

"I can only hope you are preparing yourself for what is about to happen." Inquisitor Vor stated. Vreal turned to regard the tall, and frankly unassuming, warrior.

"Why are you here, Vor?" Vreal asked, in no mood for the usual song-and-dance Vor favored.

"I'm here to deliver a simple message Vreal. That your allowances have run out." Vor's usual tone of arrogance and sneering had dropped into a cold, threatening one of promise. "This is your last chance. Fail again, and we can reach only conclusion as to how he has continued to elude us for so long." The implied accusation got Vreal's blood up. He strode towards Vor, nearly butting chests with the much taller man.

"What more must I do to prove my loyalty?" Vreal hissed angrily.

"You know full well what you must do, Vreal. The problem is that you have time and again failed to do it."

* * *

Jedi Knight Samesh wiped his brow, clearing off what felt like a half-inch of sweat. Maintenance detail on the power stations was hot, uncomfortable work. Though, as he turned and spied Berra, her head poking into the workings of one of the capacitors, he admitted that it had its perks.

"I can feel you looking." Berra said, pulling her head out, a smile on her face.

"When you're in that position, it's hard not to." Samesh shot back.

Berra approached him and pulled him down from his perch on the side of one of the stations with the Force.

"Well, aren't you the smooth talker. And extremely poorly conducting Jedi."

"If I remember correctly, the current Grand Master relaxed that 'no attachments' rule." Samesh said, smirking as he wiped a bit of soot off of Berra's cheek. Berra's smile widened and she leaned in closer, almost touching him.

"Like I said: smooth tal-"

Berra's words were lost in a explosion of light and sound that threw both of them across the room, and left Samesh blinking away disorientation and struggling to hear. He couldn't feel his arm, he realized. Looking down his left side, he saw why. Everything below the elbow was gone, a ragged, bloody stump signifying that he was missing something crucial. Turning, his eyes tried to find Berra. They focused on the limp form lying in front of him. He rolled over and clawed his way to her. Turing her over, he saw the damage: half her face had been torn apart by the blast.

An armored boot slammed into his shoulder and sent him crashing to his back. That same boot stomped onto his chest and pinned him to the floor as a figure clad in black armor he didn't recognize leveled the barrel of a large blaster at him.

He could see straight up the barrel. A glow built in its depths, and erupted outwards in what seemed to be slow motion.

* * *

Ben shifted on his seat, turning the food on his tray over with his fork. Most everyone else had filed out of the cafeteria, and only a few Padawans remained.

And one sith girl, who currently sat across from him. She was still cuffed, and while she was allowed utensils, Ben didn't figure she'd fancy her odds trying to escape a Jedi facility armed with nothing but the Force and a fork.

The lights overhead flickered and went out. Ben felt an odd… distortion in the Force. Like someone was-

Vestara thrust her arm out and shoved him off his seat before she tried to duck beneath the table. She was halfway underneath with the door separating the kitchens from the rest of the room exploded.

Blasterfire and lightsabers lit the room, but the few jedi who were spared from the explosion were obviously outclassed. From his almost prone position on the floor, Ben saw at least three Padawans die within seconds. His gaze seemed to focus on one, a boy barely ten years old, his chest and head riddled with blaster burns.

He was suddenly pulled under the table, then pulled up to face Vestara. Her expression of near panic drove away any notion he had that she was expecting this to happen.

"Do you trust me?" She whispered urgently.

Now there was question that needed much more thought than he knew he would get in this situation. There were all the things she'd done four years ago, but there were all the things she'd done since… since she'd come back. She'd come back, when she had nowhere else to go.

Ben reached for her stun cuffs and detached them.

"Enough to give you one last chance." He said. Vestara smiled a grateful, yet still somehow sad, smile at him.

"Then get ready." She replied. Ben snapped his lightsaber off his belt as he saw a pair of armored legs near their table.

Suddenly, the table was flying through the air, crashing into the soldier approaching it and driving across the room with him. It slammed into another two soldiers and crushed them all against the counter. Vestara poured Force Lightning onto the soldiers on the left side of the room, while Ben leapt at the ones to the right, saber swinging. One of the soldiers pinned against the counter raised a hand to his helmet. Ben figured there was only one thing he could be doing: calling for backup. He quickened his pace, sending deflected bolts into helms, and aiming for much quicker, lethal ways of disabling his half of the room. He was done in about a minute, but he figured that was already too long. Turning to the soldier, he saw Vestara had come to the same conclusion as she hoisted a stolen blaster and put a bolt through the soldier's helmet.

"We're not going to have long before their backup comes, right?" She asked, approaching Ben.

"Probably no-" He stopped as he saw a small bunch of troops pour through the other end of the room. He yanked Vestara to the ground with the Force and was about to try hurling another table at the newcomers when a dark blur rushed past him.

"Target acquired! Open fire, ope-AHG!" One of the soldiers started yelling as the sith from the isolation ward sliced his throat clean open with his fused-on talons. Grabbing the body, he yanked at the grenades still stuck in the belt, then hurled the corpse at the rest of the group before he dove behind the counter.

The soldiers were consumed in a gout of blue fire. One stumbled out, still burning, drawing a long sword that flickered with electricity from his backpack and slid over the counter.

The lone soldier swung at the sith, who ducked and grabbed his assailant's arm. He twisted it, snapping it at the elbow. The sith tore the sword from the soldier's grip, then threw the man over the counter. Leaping after his prey, the sith delivered a vicious kick to the soldier's head before slamming the edge of the sword into his neck. Rising from his slightly hunched position, leaving the sword firmly embedded, the sith paused and turned toward Ben.

"Usually, Skywalker, when someone saves your life, it's customary to thank them." The sith said, reaching down and tugging the sword out of the soldier's neck, loosing a jet of blood.

**Okay, that might have been a bit more gruesome than the usual Star Wars fare, but I wrote this after coming back from seeing Elysium. Fantastic film, by the way. If you enjoy expertly-done science fiction, or incredible action scenes with ludicrously awesome guns and extreme violence, you should see it. Also, I intentionally didn't specify the species of most of the bit characters here (though, post-production tip: Vreal is a human, and will be seen again in the near future) so you (that is you, the reader) can picture them based on what species you think best suits their name. Finally, sorry for taking so long to get this up, but I picked up Diablo 3 on console. So that has been devouring most of my free time.**


	5. Chapter 5

**This may be the last chapter for a while, as classes start again tomorrow, and I'll need some time to acclimatize. I may get something done in the next week or two, but I probably won't. As such, this chapter will be a longer one. Also, fear not, the sith OC will finally be named (not naming OCs is kind of a running theme, now that I think about it. My Percy Jackson fic, for example. Forty-seven chapters, and the narrator's name still hasn't been uttered once (that's gotta be some sort of record)). Anyway, I do not own Star Wars. Please review or comment.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 5

Ben leveled his lightsaber at the sith, who simply shifted and sighed.

"That's a poor "thank you" Skywalker." The sith stated.

"I'm not thanking you." Ben said.

"So you're… what, exactly? Threatening an ally while a far more dangerous enemy runs amok?"

"Not sure I'd call you an ally. You're more like an wild card."

"You're awfully quick to make assumptions, Skywalker. So make this assumption: that I will fight and kill my own people for the sake of the galaxy."

That gave both Ben and Vestara pause. It made sense. Neither the sith, nor the soldiers were like anything either of them had seen before. But that still didn't mean they could just trust him.

"Suppose you're telling the-" Vestara was interrupted by the sith hurling his sword between them, at the door behind them. Turning, they saw it embed itself in the chest of one of two soldiers coming through the door. The other soldier leveled a rifle at them. The sith reached out with a hand, curled it into a half-fist, and twisted.

The soldier's head spun one-hundred and eighty degrees as his neck violently snapped.

"Perhaps we could discuss my motivations in depth in a less deadly environment." The sith said exasperatedly, striding forward to pull the sword out of the first soldier. He then turned and walked to the other end of the cafeteria.

"Where are you going?" Vestara called.

"To provide a suitable distraction for your escape." The sith called back. He started forward, then stopped "Though, if you could see fit to point me towards my lightsaber, I'd consider us even."

"Even?" Vestara wondered.

"I've saved your lives twice now." Ben sighed at that.

"It's in the labs. Head down-" Ben began to say.

"That's all I needed, Skywalker." The sith moved through the doors.

"How exactly are you going to create a distraction?"

The sith turned his head to look back at them. Ben figured he was smiling beneath the helmet.

"I'm the second most-wanted traitor in the galaxy. All I have to do is show my face."

* * *

"Some distraction he caused, huh?" Ben called as he caught a blaster bolt on his blade and sent in flying back into his attacker's chest.

He and Vestara had made their way to the hangar, running into Luke along the way, and a few other Padawans and Knights who'd managed to survive the first few minutes of the assault. Now they were all stuck in the hangar, fighting off dozens of soldiers and several sith. Well, Luke was fighting most of the sith. The soldiers were being handled by Vestara, Ben, and the other survivors. And they were doing a good job of it, too. Ben saw a Padawan who he thought he'd heard got stuck with sensor duty by way of cafeteria gossip throw a bunch of troops into the field of fire of another squad, and a Knight he didn't recognize, but whose face was half-burned away by blasterfire, carve through another group with a grim, detached ferocity. Turning to look at his father, he saw two sith drop to the floor in pieces, and started grinning.

They'd been taken by surprise, but they were coming back. And they were close to escape, besides.

So, of course, that was when everything had to go wrong.

A ship that Ben didn't recognize came down to hover in front of the hangar door and fired a few bursts from its weapons. Ben was blown off his feet and had to struggle to get his bearings. When he did, the situation looked far less hopeful. At least four Jedi had been killed, and the ship was now landing. A ramp extended from the center of the craft, and a human sith clad in blood red robes and sparse metal armor, face almost hidden by a hood, save his eyes which were so yellow they nearly glowed, descended. He pulled his lightsaber from his belt and a shaft of red light blazed to life as he started to close the distance between him and Ben. As Ben recovered fully, he saw at least another six sith, apparently ordinary black-garbed sith though that was small comfort, come down after the newcomer.

"And everything seemed to be going so well." Vestara said.

* * *

Vreal swung his lightsaber at the head of the Skywalker boy, but young Jedi displayed speed beyond his years and ducked the slash, stabbing his own saber at Vreal's legs. Vreal spun around the attack and sent the boy crashing against the hull of a vacant starship with a Force-enhanced kick. The girl, one who he could tell had once walked the same path as he, charged him, swinging wildly, but powerfully. He thrust his hand through her guard and drove her to the ground with a burst of Force Lightning.

He suddenly had a sense of something coming at him from behind. He spun and brought his saber down in a line, cleaving the body of a thrown Guardsman clean in two down the middle.

"Vreal!" A voice yelled out from the back of the hangar.

Vreal looked at the new arrival. A ruined amalgamation of cybernetics and spent flesh, his saber blazing red in his hand, face hidden behind an imposing helmet.

Galen.

"Don't you have more important people to be killing?" Galen called, pointing his saber at Vreal, challenging him.

Vreal smirked. Memories ran through his head, of times long passed.

"So what is this?" He called back. He realized that the fighting had stopped, that all present could somehow sense the significance of the two warriors now about to face each other. "You, offering yourself up like bait, in the hopes I'll ignore them," he gestured at the jedi around him, "long enough for them to escape?" Galen's laughter rang out. It sounded… wrong. As though the man laughing did it simply out of the sake of appearances. As though he had long since forgotten what it felt like to do so, or what the feelings that made one laugh felt like.

"Guilty as charged." Galen stepped closer. He was halfway across the hangar now. The fighting was beginning to resume around the both of them, but everyone else might as well have not existed for how much they mattered. "Is it working, by any chance?"

Now it was Vreal's turn to laugh, and his, he realized, sounded just as forced, just as unnatural.

"Yes." Vreal admitted. "It is."

They dove at each other, Galen's saber slicing for Vreal's head. Vreal raised his to block, just in time, and spun beneath Galen, coming up behind him. He drove the point of his saber towards Galen's unprotected back.

Only for it to be batted aside and for a metal-cuffed boot to drive itself into his head. Stumbling back, Vreal unleashed a torrent of telekinetic energy, but Galen stopped it dead with one of his own, then whirled forward, saber spinning in an arc that would have laid Vreal open had he not backed away. Vreal swatted at Galen's saber and drove his curled fist into the cyborg's helmet. Vreal put the power of the Force behind his strike, driving Galen to his knees. He raised his saber high, intending to plunge it down into Galen's head.

Instead, his saber buried itself in the floor as Galen dove behind him, and with a sweep of his legs took Vreal's out from under him, dropping him to the floor. Vreal unleashed a blast of Force lightning that Galen just barely managed to catch on his blade.

Vreal was dimly, distantly aware that the sounds of battle around them had quieted considerably, almost totally. He could hear the engines of a starship powering up.

It didn't matter. Nothing did. Nothing but killing Galen.

* * *

It felt… oddly right. Sitting at the co-pilot's seat of the _Jade Shadow,_ his father in the pilot's seat, Vestara at navigation. Under careful watch from another Jedi. And all of them in the middle of escaping certain death.

Luke looked down as a beeping indicated that the navcomputer had calculated the coordinates, then threw the lever that sent the ship barreling into hyperspace.

They were headed for deep space. An area that no-one ever visited, except as a stop to get to a point on the way to their destination. No sense in taking chances, leading their new enemy back to someplace they didn't need to be able to find.

Ben leaned back in his chair and sighed. He slowly spun the chair around, taking in the cockpit, before letting himself, maybe inadvertently, stop spinning facing Ves. He wasn't quite sure what made him do it, but he reached his hand out to her. She took it.

* * *

A metal-cuffed boot drove into his knee, snapping the tendon out of position. A set of talons raked across his face, surrounding but not touching the long scar that Galen had put there so long ago. A lighstaber slashed across his side, burning through skin and muscle and grazing what felt like his lung.

He'd assumed that the years of serving as a half-mindless puppet, little better than a droid that was put in storage when not in use, would have dulled Galen's abilities.

Clearly, they had not.

Then, he felt the presence of the jedi vanish completely, and he knew he had failed. Galen knew it too, because after he sent Vreal crashing to his back with an open-palmed strike to the chest, he turned and began to walk away.

"Galen," Vreal, called, struggling to his feet. "You know I've failed."

Galen stopped. He didn't turn around. Just stopped.

"I know."

"Then you know what will happen to me if I return." Vreal stood now, calling on the dark side to mend his body as best it could. He felt his leg snap back into position, the blood cease flowing down his face, the hole in his lung fuse shut. "And I think I speak for both of us when I say we'd both prefer that I not meet my end at the hands of some fop Inquisitor."

Galen chuckled sadly, before turning around and tightening his grip on his lightsaber.

"You never did respect your betters, Vreal."

"Look who's talking."

Oh, how good this felt. To jest and banter again, as though all that happened, all the things that the years that sense of festering betrayal had worn away, had never happened.

Then they ran at each other, sabers held wide, and the feeling melted away as Vreal dug into himself and let the years of anger and bitterness fuel him.

He started to swing his saber, and the world seemed to slow to a crawl. He thought he could glimpse Galen's eyes, his eyes that weren't truly his, hadn't been his for years, through the visor of his helmet. He saw that Galen's saber was moving a fraction faster than his own.

He felt a burning sensation tear through his chest and heart, then he fell to the hangar floor, red mist curling from his torso.

As he felt himself fade, he gathered the strength to speak.

"Thank you."

* * *

Galen deactivated his saber and hooked it to his belt. He tapped his helmet, activating his built-in communications interface, and set it broadcast a simple message. On a channel that only one person in the all the galaxy could access. If she was still listening. If she was still alive.

Galen turned, and walked towards Vreal's body. He knelt down and slid Vreal's saber from his dead hand. Turning the weapon over, he focused the red sigil carved into the hilt. A sigil his own weapon shared. One that signified an ancient trust, an eternal loyalty, a brotherhood that ran as deep as blood.

Galen mused darkly to himself at how much such sentiments had turned out to count for. He gathered Vreal's body in his lap, and then let himself lose himself. Let his anger and grief pour out of him in violent waves, ripping panels from walls, crushing lights in the ceiling, flinging corpses across the hangar as he cradled the body of his oldest friend.

**Well, the sith finally has a name. Galen. And, to defuse possible theories right now, no, he isn't some alternate-reality Starkiller. They just happen to have the same first name. Also, in case it wasn't obvious, Khemal and Samesh are still alive. They probably won't do anything else, but they're still alive.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, classes have finally been sorted out so I will not be driven insane (the one I dropped had a rep of horribleness that I have never heard the like of) and be able to write. So, I do not own Star Wars. Please review or comment.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 6

Aelyndra pushed herself back from the controls and sighed. She didn't know where they had to go, and she wasn't going to go into the airlock and ask him. Not yet.

The red-skinned Zabrak woman looked up at the screen that showed the surveillance feed of the airlock. She'd been looking at it for a long time, slowly coming over the horror of what Galen had been reduced to. She still couldn't quite believe that the man slumped against the airlock wall was Galen. Couldn't connect the slightly sarcastic, handsome, oddly good-natured yet serious warrior with the tattered body that was all that remained.

And yet… as she came to terms with what had happened to him, something else began to build within her.

Anger.

Anger that he let her languish alone for so long, left her to fend for herself in an unfamiliar galaxy where she would surely die if her past was ever even suspected. Anger that he had waited until now to contact her. Anger that he hadn't even left the airlock.

She threw herself up out of her seat and strode to the door. Galen must have felt her coming, because when it opened, he was standing in front of the frame.

"I'm not going to-" He started to say before she slapped him across his helmeted face.

"Fifteen years," she hissed vehemently, "Fifteen years and now you decide to call? To let me know you're even alive? When everything's already gone to hell?"

He didn't say anything. He just looked at her. "Nothing to say? No excuses?" She snarled.

"I've a great many excuses, but I'm not going to use any of them." His voice sounded so much softer, so much more weary and worn.

"Why not?"

"Because I know they wouldn't help me now. And because you deserve more."

That hit her hard, washed away some of what she was feeling. But not all of it. Looking him up and down, she saw a second lightsaber hanging from one of his many belts.

"So you could find the time to make another lightsaber, but you couldn't let me know-" She stopped as she saw his entire body go tense, watched his cybernetic hand curl into a fist and knew she'd touched on something she shouldn't have. She stole a closer look at the weapon and her heart dropped into her stomach. A sigil was carved onto the saber. A sigil that matched the one on Galen's. And if he was wearing it, that could only mean one thing.

As the import hit her, she cupped her hands around her mouth, then slowly reached out to Galen.

"I'm sorry. I didn't-"

He caught her hand midway to his shoulder.

"You've nothing to be sorry for. You couldn't have known."

He let her hand drop and she did not attempt to reach to him again.

"Do you… want to talk about it?" She asked.

He laughed, a sound that had once come so naturally now sounded alien coming from him. There was a slight undertone, as though a sob was buried within, but also as though he let himself feel what he needed to long before she had retrieved him from the ruined Jedi base.

"Lyn," that old nickname, how much that pulled up from her memory, of far better times. "What do you think I will say? What can I say?" There was that angry, bitter, alien laugh again. "I murdered my oldest friend. I have no words. Not now." He sighed, and sounded as though he done that far too often in the years they'd been apart.

"Well, I've got just the thing to distract you."

"Oh really?"

"Tell me where we're headed."

* * *

Their ship dropped out of hyperspace over Coruscant. Aelyndra took a moment to simply look at it. A planet that was nothing but city. The seat of power for the Galactic Alliance.

"Enjoying the view?" Galen asked. His voice made it sound like he was smiling beneath his helmet.

"Surveillance vids from Intelligence are nice and all, but nothing beats seeing something in person." Aelyndra offered before she powered up the engines and descended through the atmosphere. Accessing the Holonet, she checked the map of the city-world, looking for the exact location of the Jedi Temple.

"What if they aren't here? You know, the important ones, anyway?" She asked as she altered her course.

"Then we'll go to every facility we know they have until we find them." Galen said.

They swooped over the buildings for several minutes before they finally saw a collection of green transparisteel pyramids containing near-replicas of the Jedi Temple of old. Aelyndra whistled as they neared the structure.

"And I thought the Sith Academy was ostentatious." She said, eyes fixated on the great pyramids.

"You have to admit that theirs seems far less ominous." Galen argued. Aelyndra shrugged, admitting he had a point. She could still remember the moment she'd first set eyes on the Academy; a wide door that seemed to be a gaping red maw set over a incalculable number of stairs, dark onyx towers reaching up into the desert sky.

"They probably won't like it if we just land." Aelyndra noted.

"What, just in the middle of the plaza?"

"Anywhere, really. It's not like we can just fly into their hangars and…" She stopped talking as an idea slowly came over her. She turned to look at Galen, face and eyes asking him a simple question.

He nodded. She knew he was grinning as widely as she was as she gunned the engines.

* * *

At least he was out of the monitor station.

That was Khemal's way of looking at it. Looking at it from a optimistic angle. Gron was still stuck in intensive care, Khemal had trouble lifting his left arm past his shoulder, and some unknown militant force of Sith had leveled one of their facilities.

So he looked at things from a positive angle. At least working in the Temple hangar, the open doors allowed for the occasional pleasant breeze. As he turned to look out the hangar doors at the bustling city, he noticed something.

A ship he'd never seen before. One that seemed to be getting closer at an alarmingly fast rate.

Khemal reacted on instinct, running for the nearest alarm before a blast of heat and air sent him sprawling. His sense of danger hit him, and he threw out a small wave of telekinetic energy, deflecting a barrel of starship fuel that had been about to smash into him.

Khemal gazed at the ship that had apparently spun around and ground to a near-deadly halt inside the hangar. A ramp extended outwards, and a familiar figure stepped out. That strange sith who'd fought with them on Shedu Maad. His hands were held above his head, and his demeanor suggested he found the last thirty seconds highly amusing.

"Take me to your leader." The sith called, and Khemal could have sworn he heard a hastily muffled peal of laughter come from inside the ship.

**Now, I get that this was slightly less serious than the rest of the story, but Star Wars is not constant seriousness and drama all the time. Just most of the time. **

**We'll get back to plot, exposition, and seriousness in the next chapter, but this… writing something kind of silly just seemed right. **

**Also, that whole "Jedi-Temple-is-encased-in-green-glass/steel-pyram ids" thing is not something I came up with on my own. That's the actual, cannon Jedi Temple on Coruscant. A feature that went surprisingly unmentioned in the last twenty official novels. And yeah, I know the Jedi got banned from Coruscant, but that's one of the many advantages of a Future-AU. You can play with the canon's rules.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I've decided to stop rambling about myself during these. I do have a bit of insight regarding a sort of format, that I'll explain in the end-note, but unless I've got a reason to say something here, I won't. I do not own Star Wars. Please review or comment.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 7

Galen stood in the middle of the Council Chambers, hands bound, surrounded by the most powerful Jedi in all the galaxy, and he had to smile to himself. If anyone had told him he'd become what he had become, that he'd one day stand before the Jedi Council and tell them all he knew of his people, then pledge to help them in the fight to come, he would have done far more than assume they were mad.

"Much as I appreciate the overestimation of my skills these imply," he raised his hands so the shock cuffs were more obvious, "I feel I'd be doing myself a disservice if I didn't tell you they aren't necessary."

The total lack of response was telling. They still didn't trust him. He wasn't surprised. Just concerned. They'd have to trust him eventually. But it would be better for everyone if they started sooner rather than later.

"I think it's time you explain some things." Luke Skywalker said. Things like who you are, where you're from, and just who it was that attacked us."

Galen had to stop and think. This was it. What he'd planned to do all those years ago. He just had more to tell them now. And yet… some part of him resisted, wouldn't accept what he knew he had to do.

He thought of Aelyndra. The fact that he could vouch for her counted for nothing; she'd been lead straight down to the holding cells. But he knew what she'd do if she were here, if she knew the indecision he was suffering.

"I am Galen Heyral, former Knight of the Imperium of Sith."

He could almost feel the shock and disbelief. He could also see how quickly those were turning to annoyance, to the idea that he was maybe some cultist seeking to rile them up. "Before you all start shouting and bickering and whatnot, allow me to explain." Galen said, raising his voice for simple effect.

All the Masters sat back in their seats. Not a one of them looked cowed, but now they looked… intrigued.

"I take it you are all familiar with the Great Hyperspace War," Galen began, "What if I told you that at the end of that conflict, when the Republic was purging the Sith from Korriban, a small fleet of around 50,000 beings fled into the Unknown Regions? That they found a world, and from that world, rebuilt what they had lost? And they have spent the last 5,000 years working towards a single goal: vengeance?"

That left them all thinking, wondering. Nearly all.

"Can you prove any of this?" Corran Horn asked.

"I'm sure your Grandmaster knows a few ways to determine my truthfulness…" Galen said "Though, if you favor less invasive methods, there should be information in my ship. Unless Aelyndra purged the databanks sometime in the last fifteen years."

"You called yourself a Knight," Cilghal cut in, "What exactly does that make you?"

""Former" Knight, Master Jedi. My titles have since become more along the lines of "expendable" and "traitor." But, to answer, a Knight of the Imperium is… a sort of middle ground between Apprenticeship and Lordship. Those with the power and influence to be truly autonomous from their Master, but not enough to become a true Lord."

"Why is that? That you are now considered a traitor?" Luke cut in.

"Because I betrayed my people?" Galen countered.

He let that blatant insult simmer for few seconds before he continued.

"In al seriousness, there was a time I never dreamed I might be anything but a loyal servant of the Imperium. But one day, a vision opened my eyes. Showed me the truth of the man I had sworn to serve. The truth of Emperor Vaugrus."

"It must have been some truly vicious backstabbing, then." Kyp Durron offered to pointed looks.

Galen laughed. He couldn't help himself.

"Forgive me. I can't expect you to understand, but…" Galen lost his composure again, and had to take several seconds before he regained it. "I, ah, I do not speak of the Emperor as a title that has been handed down over millennia. In five thousand years one man, and one man only, has borne the title. Has sat upon the Black Throne."

"That's impossible." The expressions of the rest of the Masters mirrored the sentiment.

"It would be if he were an ordinary man, but he is not. He is far from that."

"What did this vision show you?" Luke asked.

"The Emperor was once merely an exceptionally powerful and unambitious Sith, Darth Vaugrus. Near the end of the Great Hyperspace War, he enacted an ancient Sith ritual on his homeworld that he had come to rule. He… absorbed the life force of the world. Every one of his followers, every animal, every plant, every living thing, was drawn into Vaugrus. The life force of an entire world of Sith, drawn into a single being."

He stopped then, and let them consider that.

"If that's true, it couldn't be that simple-" a Master whose face Galen had somehow forgotten began to say.

"The power was… transmuted by the ritual. But that is not all that I saw," He shifted on his feet, for this, what he had seen, still haunted him. "While the effects of the ritual were potent, Vaugrus either erred in its performance or it was never intended to prolong life and power across thousands of years. Vaugrus has preformed it on a smaller scale twice since the Imperium was founded. A prison-world and a fledgling colony, both sacrificed that he might live on," Galen stopped, as the memory bled over him, the images of planets slowly crumbling into husks, the people Vaugrus had sworn to lead dying for the sake of prolonging his own life. "That was simply what he did to ensure he lived long enough to see his people take their vengeance. What might he do when all the galaxy is his?"

* * *

Galen obediently walked through the door into his admittedly lavish cell. The stun cuffs came off and the young Knight walked back out, leaving him alone.

He'd expected this, of course. Knew it was foolish to think they'd simply trust him. But he didn't think it was foolish for them to not abide his offer; let him stew down here until something happened, then let him prove himself. The only issues were those of time and impact. Every minute he spent down here was another minute the Imperium had to prepare, and that would mean their opening salvo would be that much more destructive.

Turning, he gazed through the small window in the side of his cell and into the one next to his. At the young Zabrak woman who wasn't yet aware he was in the cell next to hers.

At least they'd granted him that much to start with.

* * *

Jaina looked out the window of the small apartment at the early morning traffic and reflected on how much she enjoyed the relative normalcy.

The apartment had been Jag's idea, and she hadn't needed much convincing. It was quaint but fairly spacious, and it gave her more or less a permanent place to live outside of the Temple. She thought back, several years, to that house her parents had bought. The reasoning being that they simply wanted a permanent place on Coruscant. A home. She'd understood what they meant back then. But looking around now, she understood much better. Walking back into the kitchen to refill her caf, she stopped at Mia's room. Took a moment to gaze in at the infant girl sleeping in her crib.

Then the door rang.

She muttered a curse to herself as it rang again, and she faintly heard Jag rouse himself, and Mia softly complain at the disruption of sleep.

Opening the door, she saw a deliveryman on the other side. He held out a package, followed by a datapad and pen. Sighing, she took the pen and began to sign.

Then ducked back as a knife swung past her and nearly cut her throat open. She swung her hand, which still held her mug, into the deliveryman's face. It shattered and he reeled back. Jaina reached for her lightsaber, but the man struck out, and sent her cannoning back into the apartment.

Dragging herself up from the floor, she realized how hard he'd just hit her. It felt like she'd been hit by wookie. A fairly weak wookie, admittedly, but a wookie nonetheless. But this man certainly wasn't a wookie. He was an average-looking man. Who was about to force his way into the apartment.

Jaina reached out with the Force and hit a button next to the door's keypad. The door slammed shut, but not before the man somehow dove inside. Reaching behind himself, he quickly produced a blaster pistol and started firing. Jaina dove into the living room, ears ringing with blasterfire and Mia's screams of fear. She could see Jag rushing down the hall, rifle in hand. He fired a few shots down the hallway, taking the assailant's attention away from her for a few seconds. Those few seconds were all Jaina needed. She lit her lightsaber and buried it in the man's chest. Jag quickly reached her, and gave the man a prod with his foot, simply to make sure he was dead. They turned to see to their daughter when Jaina got a sense of danger so acute from the body on the floor, she barely noticed that Mia's cries increased drastically in volume. Reacting on instinct, she used the Force to hurl the body through the window she'd been looking through barely three minutes before. Then she was thrown against the kitchen table by a wave of force as the body exploded.

* * *

Galen got up from his meditative pose as he heard the door open. He turned around to find Luke Skywalker standing before him.

"Well, that didn't take very long." Galen said. "What was it?"

"Someone attempted to kill Jedi Solo and her husband."

"Would this be the Solo husband or the- right, the Fel husband." The look from the Jedi Grandmaster told Galen everything. "Right. First, let me and Aelyndra out of our cells."

* * *

"Did you by any chance keep the kit bag?" Galen asked Aelyndra.

"Of course I kept the kit bag." Aelyndra said, as though Galen was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

"Skywalker, send someone to our ship. There should be a black bag in the quarters with a gold seal on it. Have someone bring it down, and if you could get a message to your niece and nephew-in-law to drop by in a car, you'd save us all a lot of time." He turned to Aelyndra. "Tell me you remember how to crack Intel encryption."

He almost cringed at the glare she gave him. "Alright, you do. No need to… just, be ready to hack remotely."

"You're leaving me here?"

"If I remember correctly, you referred to my ability to hack things as "having no ability at all would be an improvement.""

"True."

"If I might interrupt," Luke said, "Why do you need Jaina and Jag to come here?"

Galen turned back to Luke.

"So I can see what's left of whoever tried to kill them." Galen started towards the elevator. "In the meantime, get the names of everyone in the government and military you couldn't fight a war without and get them under guard. Jedi guard, preferably."

* * *

"I don't mean to make things difficult, but this is somewhat irregular." The morgue attendant said.

"It's Jedi business." Jaina said, brushing past the man.

"He doesn't look much like a Jedi." The attendant said, looking at Galen.

"I'm a special consultant."

Galen strode into the morgue and looked at the various unmarked doors. "Which one?" He asked.

The attendant checked his chart.

"36-G."

Galen swung the door open and yanked the slab out, gazing at the burned remnants of the assassin. Nearly half the torso was still intact, and all of the head remained. That was odd. Almost enough to make him wonder if he was wrong.

He did have one way to find out for sure. He reached out with one of his talons and cut into the scorched flesh beneath the jaw on the right side.

"Hey, you can't-"

"Jedi Solo, if you could keep him from interfering." Reaching the talon into the hole he'd cut, Galen felt around until the talon tapped against something that wasn't bone. "Gotcha."

He pulled out a tiny glass tube, wiring and a few flickering lights visible inside. He pulled a cart over to his side with the Force and set the device down.

"What's that?" Jaina asked.

"Subdermal radio. Which is all I needed to see." Galen said as he grabbed the corpse's shoulders and flipped it over onto its chest. Galen dropped the black bag he'd slung over his shoulder and rifled through it, coming back up with a handheld scanner and a large metal spike connected to a boxy data storage deck.

"What are you-"

"Intelligence loves, and I mean _loves,_ their subdermal implants. Especially where deep-cover operatives are concerned." Galen began to explain as he held the scanner over the body's head. "These guys, they are serious about keeping contact to a minimum. As far as I know, they generally only even meet their handlers twice. When the job starts, and when it's done. And they aren't stupid enough to send and receive information and instructions via conventional methods, so…" Galen paused as the scanner beeped and he held the spike up over the area. "They have a little computer crammed into their brain, so that all that stuff they'd normally have to leave around in some digital form that could incriminate them even if they deleted it gets beamed right into their head." Galen stabbed the spike down into the brain with a wet squelching sound, followed by a metallic click.

"And the stabbing the brain with the spike is you… what? Hacking the implant?"

"Gold star, Jedi Solo."

"How do you know all this?" Jag asked.

"My mother worked for Intelligence." Galen said. "And this is not the first time I've had to go into the head of a botched deep-cover operative." Galen started tapping on the data storage deck, then reached up to activate his helmet comlink. "Lyn, I've tapped the neural hub. You're go."

"Alright. Give me a few minutes. It's been about seventeen years since the last time I had to do this." Aelyndra's voice said in his ear.

"I'd say take all the time you need, but-"

"But I can't, I know."

Galen turned and saw that Solo and Fel were so… distracted by the gruesome spectacle display they didn't the morgue attendant extend a hold-out blaster from his sleeve.

Galen didn't waste time warning or going easy. He yanked the attendant into his hands with the Force and engulfed him with Force Lightning. He dropped the smoking body to the ground a minute later and dove for his bag.

"What the kriff was-" Jag began.

"Had to short out whatever countermeasures he might have crammed into him." Galen took a second to slice into the attendant's jaw and dug out a tube identical to one he'd pulled out of the operative's body. No sense in not making sure. Galen returned to his bag and came up with a large syringe and a white patch, connected to a datapad.

Galen jammed the needle into the attendant's chest, and stood back as the man shot up, screaming and jerking. Galen drove his fist into the man's face, then turned him over and attached the patch to the back of the man's head.

"What was-"

"Had to get him back on his feet," Galen grabbed the attendant's hand and pressed it to the datapad's screen. It beeped, and he tapped a few commands. "If we can access his implant then… Lyn, change of plans. I've got another hub, and it's live. Linking now."

"How did you…" Aelyndra began, but stopped to think. "Morgue attendant?"

"I really don't know how I didn't figure that."

"Don't beat yourself up over it." She lapsed into silence for several minutes. "Wow." She sounded genuinely amazed at whatever she'd done.

"What?"

"I've already got access. The Intelligence division either had massive cutbacks, or…" She lapsed into a worried silence.

"We get any names?"

"Yeah."

"Dig deeper, and then dig even deeper. Give the Jedi whatever you find." Galen said.

"Why go through the rest? We already have at least six aliases. Unless they-"

"Leave layers of information in the implants-"

"So anyone going into them gets easy access to false information-"

"And they just thank their good luck and get the wrong people taken in-"

"While the real operatives are free to keep doing their jobs."

"They know their work, have to give them that."

"They certainly do. Kriff."

"What?"

"That whole 'completing a sentence together' thing. Forgotten how much I missed that."

"Same here."

**So, a quick word on the new sort-of story format. Things will be kinda episodic now; that is to say, instead of focusing a single chapter to a single key bit of story, now multiple chapters will encompass a wider arc of story that is still somewhat self-contained, with maybe a chapter or two of filler in-between and the end of the filler period setting up the next "episode."**

**Also, yeah, Jaina and Jag have a baby girl. AU escape clause.**


	8. Chapter 8

**So, just… enjoy, I guess. I do not own Star Wars. Please review and comment.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 8

As he gazed at the six cells in the Asylum Block that were now occupied by deep cover agents of the Imperium's Intelligence Division, Galen figured he could call this round a win.

While digging deeper into the two neural hubs hadn't gotten them any names, they had found seemingly less important information; account numbers and activities. Aelyndra had followed the paper trails as far as she could, which had turned out to be all the way to the beings at the other end. They'd rounded up another five operatives in addition to the one from the morgue. One low-ranking member of the Alliance Navy, a journalist, an EMT, a cab driver, and a night shift janitor at the Senate Building.

"This is just…" Ben began to say.

"Please don't tell me this is unbelievable," Vestara said, "Because if memory serves, this happened about four years ago, just on a larger scale."

"I have to give you that one."

Galen sighed and started towards the cell containing the night worker.

"Where are you going?" Aelyndra asked.

"To have a little chat with the ringleader."

* * *

Galen walked in, gazing at the seemingly normal, unassuming man slouching in a cushioned chair, knowing that man was anything but, and stood there. He waited until the man looked at him.

"I can only assume you know you've been made by this point," Galen said, now slowly pacing in front of the man, "and that you know what I am, if not exactly who. Unlike you, however, I know exactly who and what you are."

The man scoffed. "Tier Two Operative, designator "Denton." Galen offered and watched as Denton's face paled. "Recruited into Intelligence straight out of the Imperial Academy, where you have served with distinction. As I understand it, you're tapped for the Sigil of Kayran in about two months time. Unofficially, of course." Galen relished the look of steadying panic coming over Denton's face. The old access codes his mother had told him about still worked, even now after he'd gone rogue. Someone somewhere must have figured revoking them wasn't worth the time. How wrong they were. "However, I do not want to give you the impression that I know everything about you. There is something I could use your help figuring out. And that is your contingency plan."

Denton regained his composure, and simply glared at Galen.

Galen leaned in, so that his helmet was almost touching Denton's face.

"Since you clearly aren't grasping the situation, Denton," Galen said, his tone slowly lowering, "I'll make it clear for you. The instant the Jedi agreed to leave me in a room with you, your choices in what you could do dropped to one: how much pain you have to suffer through before you tell me what I want to know."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Galen walked out of the cell, leaving an almost sobbing Denton curled up on the floor.

"It's not good." Galen said without preamble.

"Clearly." Ben said darkly, gazing at Denton.

"We can argue the ethics of torture later, Skywalker. Denton's backup plan was a list of his cell's targets, transmitted to another Intelligence operative offsite."

"I can't really imagine why that's such a problem, considering how quickly we took care of these guys."

"Trust me, Skywalker. The man they sent the list to is… well, let's just say he's about as bad as news gets. Try and round some fairly important people I need to get up to speed." Galen started towards the elevators when he noticed Aelyndra glaring at him.

"What?" He asked.

"You know what. We don't _do_ that, Galen." Aelyndra's face was the picture of righteous anger.

"Actually, we do. We did. Just once, but we did it all the same. And for far less."

""Far less?"" Aelyndra asked disbelievingly, though everyone noted she made no attempt to contradict Galen.

"What we did that one time, it was about us. About making it feel like we'd done something. This, the galaxy might well be riding on this."

Aelyndra shook her head and looked at Galen sadly.

"What happened to you?"

"I survived and could still be made useful."

* * *

Korban reflected briefly that the fight was not entirely his fault. True, he'd been the one who'd walked into the bunch of drunken pirates, distracted as he was by the soft buzzing in his skull that made him almost twitch with excitement about being back on the clock, but the pirates had been the ones who'd tried to kill him.

While he found that a bit of an overreaction, he wasn't about to let them get off easy.

He kicked out, catching the Quarren's knee and he smiled as he heard it shatter. He moved forward, grabbed the quarren by the back of its collar, turned it around, and thrust its head into the edge of the bar. He was rewarded with a loud crunch and a wet squelching sound, and his smile widened.

Someone grabbed him from behind. He reached around, more to figure out what exactly had grabbed him than to try and force his assailant off. His quick peruse told him a human had grabbed him. Perfect.

Korban tightened his grip on the human's head and jerk his hands backward as he twisted his own head around. He bit down on something soft and hard and heard the human scream. Korban yanked his heard backward and was sprayed with blood as he tore the man's nose off. Korban took a second to spit the nose out of his mouth and take in the sight of the man stumbling backwards, screaming, blood pouring from a gaping wound in his face, before he stepped forward, took the man's head in his hands and twisted, breaking his neck.

The last of the pirates tackled Korban against the bar and began furiously punching him. This one was a Bothan. A very diverse bunch, he reflected. Reaching out across the bar on both sides, his right hand closed around an abandoned wine glass. He smashed the glass against the countertop and thrust the broken stem through the bothan's throat, then let him drop to the floor, choking and gurgling.

* * *

Korban walked into his tiny apartment and went to the even tinier bathroom to wash his face and hands off. As he emerged, wiping an already dirty towel over his hands, he went over to his neural patch. He stuck it onto the back of his head, and looked at the screen of the datapad. His face blossomed into a smile as he read the names and saw the faces. This was going to be good, one for the history books.

He reached for his communicator.

"Hey, Troan. Yeah, it's me," Korban said. "Get the ship ready, and dump a bucket on Rory. We've got a job." Korban couldn't hide the excitement in his voice. "A big one."

* * *

Flight Lieutenant Korandi reflected that patrolling the throne world was not nearly as exciting nor glamorous as it had been made to sound.

That was her thoughts on the matter until an unidentified ship dropped out of lightspeed along her patrol route.

"Attention, unauthorized vessel: you are in violation of Hapan airspace. State you identity and your business here, or I will be forced to fire upon you." Korandi waited as the ship opened a channel.

"Hi. My name's Korban. I'm here to kill someone. No-one you'd know." The speaker had an accent she couldn't place, and sounded practically manic.

Korandia was about to send out an alert when she saw something about the ship that left her speechless. A man clad in a vac suit was hanging out of a door in the ship, holding a large rifle.

When two bullets pierced her cockpit and nearly took her head off, she realized what the stranger was doing. She threw her ship into a dive, hoping to come up and around her assailant. Then she heard another cracking sound and felt something hard impact her head a second before she stopped feeling altogether. A twirl of blood spiraled out of a hole in her forehead before it was sucked out of the closest breach in the cockpit.

Korban pulled himself back into the assault ship and sealed the door, laughing.

"I karking LOVE sniping in vacuum," He said to the two mean seated in the sealed cockpit. "No wind, no gravity, just lead and shoot." He walked over to the door leading the cockpit and banged on it a few times. "Now come on. Let's hurry it up. We got an date to keep."

* * *

"For those of you who are just tuning in, we've received reports that the Fountain Palace, seat of the Hapan royal family, has been attacked."

Ben gazed at the images on-screen, what he heard was a once incredibly built, beautiful palace was now mostly smoking rubble. "There is no information on whether there are survivors, but-"

The vid was muted suddenly. Ben turned to see Galen toss the controller back to the table.

"Well, Korban certainly didn't waste time." Aelyndra noted, her gaze fixed on the screen.

"I'm surprised there's any news on this," Luke said, "We generally just get gossip out of Hapes. Even with…" He found he couldn't continue, couldn't give voice her name, as though that might somehow be acknowledging the possibility that Tenel Ka had been murdered.

"If the Imperium wants something to be known, it will be." Galen said. "I'm more surprised they don't know whether or not their ruler lives."

"They probably do know, they're just keeping it under wraps." Ben offered. "Standard protocol for Hapans is to not let on who's alive in a case like this, so they can if there's anyone who takes advantage too quickly." Ben looked around to see everyone in the room giving him a look that somewhere between astonished and curious. "Taryn Zel might have let a few things slip after the nanovirus attack."

"Given this, do you think maybe we ought to change our strategy?" Luke asked. Everyone on the list that had been extracted from the Intelligence agents' implants was currently secluded away in a high-security underground bunker. "If this Korban can manage to bomb the Queen Mother's estate-"

"He's not stupid enough to try the same thing twice." Galen responded. "But he'll be coming here, make no mistake." He turned to leave, but stopped just short of the door. "Does she know?" He asked.

"Does who know?"

"Allana."

"Do you really think we ought to tell her? When we don't know ourselves what's happened?"

Galen turned to regard Luke.

"The last time I saw my father, I was nineteen." Galen said, his voice taking on an almost wistful tone. "It was a fairly regular visit by his standards. Some talk, some food and drink, and unrealistic promises of when we'd next see each other," Galen took a deep breath before continuing, "Six months later I was standing at his funeral, and the High Inquisitor handed me the Star of Korriban in my father's name. The highest honor in the Imperium. He'd died uncovering and ending a coup-de-tat against Emperor Vaugrus," Galen turned back to the door. "If I had to choose between ignorance, and being able to wonder and hope as to his fate, I know which I would choose, Grandmaster Skywalker."

* * *

As he gazed at the metal ceiling above the bed, Jagged Fel couldn't help but wonder why he was hiding in an underground bunker with some of the most important political and military figures in the galaxy, up to and including Wynn Dorvan and Nek Bwua'tu. That sith defector had put it in terms that made sense. Despite holding no sort of official office, Jag was a man with a great deal of influence in two highly militarized societies, the Imperial Remnant and Chiss Ascendancy. That didn't make hiding any easier to stomach, nor the fact that he and Jaina had left their daughter in someone else's care. Even if that someone was a Jedi Knight, and their separation from their daughter only temporary.

The transmitter Jag and Jaina had brought with them beeped. Jaina reached for the device. Security had been loathe to let them bring it down into the bunker.

The picture was fuzzy and grainy for several seconds before it resolved itself into a face that neither of them wanted to see. Lightly bearded, greasy hair rumpling around his neck, a manic smile on his face. A face they'd seen in the cursory briefing Galen had given hours ago.

Korban.

"Oh, good. I was worried this thing was broken." Korban said, his tone reflecting a dangerous mirth. "I'm a last-minute replacement. The other sitter you two left had to leave. Some sort of emergency." The image blurred, and then was filled by the body of a Jedi Knight, lying in a pool of blood, her throat slit and robes torn. The image blurred back to Korban's smiling face. "She was sure you'd understand." A crying sound issued from somewhere beyond the picture. "Oh right, there's someone here wants to say hi to you." The picture shifted, going through the inside of the safehouse, before it stopped in front of Mia's crib. She was holding herself up by the railing, crying.

Korban shifted into view, and reached out to stroke her cheek, brushing away a tear. Jag felt his free hand curl into a fist. Korban started shushing her.

"It's alright little girl, it's alright. Don't cry." Korban whispered just loud enough for the transmitter to pick up. He looked right into the device, and pointed at it with his free hand. "Hey, look who's here, huh? It's mommy and daddy." Korban said encouragingly and waved lightly as Mia focused on the image of her parents. "Yeah, it's mommy and daddy. Can you say "Hi?" Huh? Say "Hi," to mommy and daddy?" Mia mumbled something that was unintelligible, but clearly unhappy. "Okay, yeah, that might be a bit much for you," Korban admitted, shaking his head. "How 'bout a smile, yeah? A smile for mommy and daddy?"

Mia fixed Korban with a look that bordered on judgmental, as though she couldn't believe he seriously expected her to do anything he said.

Korban sighed and stood up from the crib. "Kids these days, am I right?"

"What do you want?" Jag asked, taking care to not let his fury seep into his voice. "I can't help but wait for the bit where you threaten to kill her if I don't give myself and everyone I'm hiding with up to you."

Korban fixed him with a look of utter surprise, then affront. He stepped out of Mia's room.

"I can't imagine you've got a _good_ opinion of me, Fel, but give credit where it's due. A man has to have standards, right? Gotta have rules for himself, or he's not even a man then." Korban said angrily, offense painted on his face.

"So why'd you make this call if you weren't going to get us to bargain for her life?" Jain cut in furiously.

Korban burst out laughing. It had a hysterical tinge to it, but it was earnest laughter nonetheless.

"How'd…" Korban had to stop to catch his breath, "How'd you ever make Master, Solo? Idiot head like that on your shoulders?" Korban leaned in, so his grinning face filled the picture. "Only thing I needed you to do was answer the call." A chill settled over both of them. Korban had been tracing the signal.

He knew exactly where they were now.

**I didn't show the torture of Denton partly because of rating concerns and because straight up torture really isn't Star Wars. Sure, it's shown up, but never really explicitly described. **

**Yeah, and Korban is a couple shades of sci-fi psychopath. Very heavy Kruger influence (in case it wasn't obvious), some Jubal Early (that bit will be very important later (I also really hope you know who Jubal Early is (if you don't, here's a hint: Firefly))).**


	9. Chapter 9

**Note: This a more a personal question, but… really? Almost 1,300 views, and only three people have anything to say? Heck, I'll even take criticism (it helps me improve the story).**

** Okay. Rant over. Enjoy. I do not own Star Wars. Please review or comment (or criticize constructively).**

The Dark Return

Chapter 9

"Remind me why we agreed to let you come along again?" Ben asked as he made his way to the shuttle. Jaina had called in a few minutes earlier, describing the frankly disturbing call Korban had used to discover the location of the bunker that was holding everyone on his hit-list. As such, many of the senior Knights were mobilizing to bolster the regular defenses.

And, somehow, Vestara Khai was coming with them.

"I'm naturally persuasive." She responded, a teasing smile on her face.

"Yeah, I remember." That comment sent the smile running.

Ben turned to check that everyone who was supposed to be coming had, and noticed Galen making his way to the shuttle.

"You're not coming." Ben said when Galen neared.

"You're permitting Ms. Khai to join you." Galen pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm not even sure why we agreed to that."

"So what can be the harm in allowing me to come?"

"Get a different lightsaber, you have a seat." Valin Horn called from inside the shuttle.

"A different lightsaber?" Galen asked.

"Yeah. Regular folks, and soldiers, tend to not respond well to people running around waving red lightsabers."

Galen let out a humorless chuckle, then snapped his saber off his belt. He gave it a twist halfway up the length of the hilt, and activated it. An orange blade extended outwards.

"This isn't the first time I've had to work outside of the Imperium's territory." Galen said, his tone making his satisfaction at surprising everyone obviously clear.

* * *

A large grey gunship swooped through traffic without a care as to who or what was in its way. A CSF car attempted to stop the ship halfway to the Senate building, and promptly found itself spinning out of control as the gunship slammed it out of the skylanes. The ship came to hover a few yards from the entrance, and the heightened security was obvious; GAS officers, automated turrets, a cleared walking radius of several dozen feet in front of the entrance.

The gunship rotated, and a door on the side opened. Korban stepped into view, holding one of his favorite weapons. He held it up and activated the tracking sequence. He figured he could get most of the wet things standing between him and the doorway marked before everything started shooting at him.

As it turned out, he could only get half of them marked. Rory spun the ship around, and opened fire with the cannon mounted beneath the cockpit, melting the turrets and driving the security officers into whatever cover they could find.

It wouldn't save them, but whatever made them feel comfortable, Korban reflected. Rory turned the ship back so Korban could fire. He pulled the trigger, and dozens of tiny disks shot out of the barrel of the weapon and flew towards their targets, moving up and around whatever was in their way. Korban checked the read-out. Everyone that the gun had marked had been tagged. He tapped the button above the trigger, and watched gleefully as fifteen beings exploded into fragments. He had to yell then. Let his excitement and jubilation out. This sort of thing, this was what he lived for.

A wave of enjoyment burned through the Force as fifteen people were reduced to little more than chunks.

* * *

"I know this won't be a particularly welcome sentiment," Vestara offered as her face twisted in disgust at the sheer pleasure emanating from the gunship, "but that man needs to die."

"Something must be horribly wrong with me, because I almost want to agree with you there." Ben said. "What's that, the second time?"

"In about a week."

"You're a horrible influence."

"Aren't you supposed to be the good influence? You're falling down on the job."

"You two are the definition of incorrigible." Galen said. That shut them both up quickly. Galen slid the shuttle door open and leaped out. The rest of the Jedi followed his lead. The gunship flew just over the sidewalk, and Korban walked out. He turned to see the new arrivals, and his smile widened.

"Oh, the big boys are coming out to play, eh?" Korban yelled as the gunship lifted back and began pouring cannon fire on the remaining security officers. The Intelligence operative reached behind his back and drew...

"A sword?" Ben had to ask. "Really? Just a regular sword? Well, we certainly don't need any more evidence that this guy is crazy."

"Don't be so dismissive." Vestara warned.

"This coming from the woman whose people came strapped with glass daggers." Valin added.

Korban ran at them, his completely ordinary, basic sword held tightly in one hand. Ben moved to meet him, and swung at the man's legs. Korban swung in response. He either had a really good sword, or he was even crazier than-

Ben's saber rebounded off the edge of the metal blade. And that wasn't even the most shocking thing. The force of Korban's swing nearly knocked his shoulder out of its socket. Ben backed up, but not quickly enough. Korban swung hard, and Ben raised his saber to block. Korban's blow smashed the saber out of place, and he swung his other hand in a blindingly fast punch. Ben was knocked off his feet and slid across the ground for almost a foot, his head ringing, spots dancing in his eyes. The last time he'd been hit anywhere near as hard as that, he'd been fighting Abeloth. Shaking away the daze, he saw Valin getting pushed back by Korban. The man swatted Valin's saber out of his hand, then kicked his leg in. As Valin fell backwards, Korban stepped forward and slammed his elbow into Valin's head, driving the young Jedi to the ground with such force that the pavement cracked.

Galen dove toward Korban's unprotected back and slammed his left, whole hand against it, sending a current of fairly discreet Force Lighting flowing over the man. Korban jerked and shuddered, then dropped to his knees, spasming for several seconds. Roaring in pain, he leapt up and around, driving the hilt of his sword into Galen's helmet.

"You karking schuta." Korban said with a hint of appreciation. He thrust his sword down between Galen's neck and shoulders. Galen dropped to his knees, and Korban tore his blade out, the edge tearing through Galen's back and eliciting a scream of pain. "That _hurt_."

Ben ran at Korban as Vestara came at him from the opposite direction. At the last second, Korban spun and slammed the flat of his sword into Ben's side. Ben was fairly certain he felt a few ribs crack beneath the blow. Korban continued his rotation, somehow bearing Ben with him, and sent him crashing into Vestara who had to shift her position so as to not slice Ben clean in half. Korban drew a pistol from his belt and fired several bullets into Ben and Vestara's knees.

"Now don't any of you go anywhere. I've got business to take care of, but we can get back to it when I'm done, 'kay?"

Korban started towards the doors of the Senate building. Rory pulled the gunship back and began broadcasting a prerecorded message. If any cops, any Jedi, anyone at all came near the Senate building, the gunship would pull back into the crowd of Coruscant and blow itself and all the people on the pedways and cars and office buildings near it sky high.

They weren't even bluffing. But only they knew that.

* * *

Jaina stood with her saber ready, looking at the securely shut blast door, and hearing what sounded like utter chaos on the other side. Blaster shrieks, cries of pain, and a frequent, manic laugh. There was a loud, sickening squelching sound, followed by weak screaming.

"Hey, come one. It's just a flesh wound!" A voice happily yelled, the speaker punctuating his cry with an explosion. A loud, wet slicing sound signaled the end of the fight, with a clear indication as to who had won. Then… silence.

Jaina approached the door cautiously, and realized she could hear a faint beeping. She quickly ran backwards, keeping her eyes on the door.

"Get back, get-" Her words were lost as the door was torn apart by a gout of white-hot flame. As she got to her feet, a smiling man covered in spatters of blood stepped through the hole, dragging his sword along a flaming piece of the door. The fire seemed to leap onto the blade, and it continued to burn as the sword came up into a ready position.

"So, who's first?" Korban asked.

* * *

Troan didn't hate kids, he thought. He liked kids. He liked looking at the ones who were lucky enough to not grow up like he did. Liked thinking about what they could make of themselves, what he could maybe be doing if he'd had the breaks they did.

It was the really little kids that tried his patience. That he couldn't look at and feel sort of happy for. Really little kids, like the one Korban had left him to look after. He'd been told, in no uncertain terms as she was very valuable, to not harm a hair on her head. Given all her crying and complaining, he was finding that very, very difficult. He moved to the kitchen of the safehouse, and stopped when he thought he heard something. Suddenly, a searing pain burst to life in him, and he looked down to see a yellow lightsaber blade sticking out of his chest, right beneath his heart. The blade shifted and he felt the very bottom of his heart sear.

"Whatever Korban's paying you, it is far too much money." Aelyndra said as she drew her lightsaber out of Troan and let him drop to the floor.

Aelyndra made her way to the room from which all the crying was emanating. She saw Mia, maybe eight months old, holding herself up on the railing of her crib, a barely visible fuzz of brown hair on her head. Aelyndra smiled at the girl, and sent waves of calm through the Force. Impressions of the girl's parents, her great-uncle Luke, the Jedi Temple. Everything she could think of to let the little girl know she was a friend.

"Hey, it's alright." She said as she neared the crib. She leaned down so their faces were even. Mia had stopped crying and was looking almost suspiciously at Aelyndra. She wasn't surprised. "I'm a… friend of your parents. We're going to go somewhere safe, and when they've sorted out all the bad guys, I'm going to take you back to them, okay?"

Mia frowned. She looked for all the world as though she had understood everything Aelyndra had just told her, and was carefully considering all of it. She finally nodded, and carefully reached out. Aelyndra lifted the girl out of the crib and carried her out of the room. As she passed by Troan's prone form, she reached a hand up to cover Mia's eyes.

Then she heard a faint, pained laugh. Troan was still alive.

"What's so funny?" She asked.

Troan kept laughing.

"Two dead shags, that's what." Troan gasped out. He turned over and threw a large metal sphere at them.

Aelyndra was caught so off guard that she didn't realize it was a grenade until it exploded.

**Why's Korban using bullets? Partly because he's a totally crazy, violence-and-pain-loving space killer, and because I feel bullets are far too underrated where Star Wars is concerned. Sure, blaster bolts burn, but bullets shatter bone, leave gaping holes…and I'm starting to sound insane, so I'll just end this note by saying that bullets seem slightly more useful than slow-moving lasers in some situations.**

**Actually, one last thing: Troan's calling Aelyndra and Mia "slaves" in Huttese. Nothing quite so foul as it probably sounds.**

**Everything that Korban is saying is exactly as foul as it probably sounds. He's a foul-mouthed guy.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Note: Well, we're on the second-to-last of the "Korban episode" arc. At which point, the story will shift to a couple chapters of pure loose-end-wrap-up/character development/world building/minor story advancement while I try and plan out the next major episodic arc. I have some ideas as to characters and events I'd like to use, but nothing really concrete yet in terms of timeline or an actual story plan. Granted, I never planned for this entire episode, so… yeah. I did finally come up with what I consider a great final end to the actual story as a whole, but that's beside the point. I do not own Star Wars. Please review, comment, or criticize. And most of all, enjoy.**

The Dark Return

Chapter 10

She should be dead. It took her a few seconds to reach that conclusion. She should be dead. She shouldn't still able to see or feel anything. A grenade was thrown right into her face and she hadn't gotten up any sort of Force barrier before it went off.

So how was she still alive?

A feeling in the Force, of a tremendous will and power drawing itself back, gave her the answer. Aelyndra looked down at the baby girl in her arms, felt her draw her presence back into herself, and realized that it had been Mia who had somehow saved them both. Her face broke out into a smile, and she started laughing to herself. There was a slight hysterical edge to it, but it was genuine and grateful and amazed. She took a moment to step over what was left of Korban's lackey, carefully keeping his ruined, burning form out of Mia's field of view, before she kissed the girl on the top of her head and whispered several praises into her ear.

She told herself to make sure to tell Solo and Fel that their daughter was an absolute prodigy of the Force.

* * *

While Korban's entrance had certainly been an affecting one, it had not been all that practical. The fact that he had to quickly dive back behind the door he'd destroyed as a dozen blasters poured fire in his direction was a testament to that. Jaina and Jag stood with the remains of the guard force, firing at Korban's cover that was now starting to glow and warp beneath the near-constant blaster fire. No one trusted explosives to not accidentally kill any of the people they were all trying to guard.

Suddenly, a cry of loss and rage rang out from behind the door, and Jaina saw a blur shoot past the opening and up the stairs. Her mind focused on the string of shouted expletives carrying down the steps before she saw several metallic spheres bounce into the room. She quickly sent them flying back out of the room with a quick application of telekinesis, and yelled at everyone to duck before the exploded and sent a gout of fire streaming over their collective heads through the hole in the door. As she got back up, she couldn't help but wonder what could have possibly happened that would send Korban running off like that.

* * *

While healing trances would normally be enough to at least get most practitioners of the Force back onto their feet after suffering even serious injuries, getting into a trance was difficult with a gunship taking potshots at you. A fact that Ben had been reflecting on for several minutes. He'd long since realized that whoever was piloting the gunship wasn't actually trying to kill any of them; he was more having fun. Making them dance was probably the term.

Then, a beacon of rage lit up the Force, and barely a minute later Korban was bursting out of the doors of the Senate Building, screaming at the pilot in a language Ben couldn't understand, but thought he recognized. It was an old Sith dialect he'd heard Vestara use on Korriban. The gunship swooped down and Korban leapt into it before it had even descended fully. It pulled back up and sped off.

"What was that about?" He asked no one in particular.

"One of them was killed," Vestara offered. "And Korban is not happy about that."

* * *

Korban was in the safehouse, kneeling next to Troan's body, and came the closest he'd come in a long time to actually weeping. They'd killed him. Those Jedi and their deserter pals, they'd killed him. A guy simply doing his job for people so much worse than he was, and they'd killed him. Respect all life his sac-

"Boss, we can't stay here. We got to go. Security, cops, Jedi are gonna be all over this place, and we don't want to-"

"Yeah. I got it Rory." Korban got his feet, and reached down to pluck a small chain from Troan's neck. A simple black obsidian ring was hung around it. Poor man. "Head for you place in town. I'll go for mine. We'll figure out what we do next when we're safe in." Rory took his leave, and Korban started to make his way to the one place he was almost certain the cops and Jedi wouldn't follow him through: the undercity. Still full of vong plants and gangs and unbelievably poor and desperate people that the rest of the planet had apparently agreed to consider as not existing so they could all sleep at night.

Korban could figure what he'd see down there. Violence, scavengers, gangs, the absolute dregs of society struggling to eke out something close to survival in what was supposed to be the grand seat of a great system of opportunity and power. Despite his anger and grief, he had to take a moment to smile to himself. All capitals of government had such places then. He'd been reared in such places. Time to go home for a few hours.

* * *

"You really think this is a good idea?" Luke asked Galen.

"It's the only option we have left, Skywalker. Ordinary security and ordinary soldiers won't keep Korban away from his targets. We just got lucky this time."

"What makes here more secure?"

"Now, if Korban wants his targets, he'll have to fight his way through a building full of Jedi."

They walked into the elevator and ascended from the asylum block.

"What makes you think he'll even come here in person? That he won't just bomb us like he did Tenel Ka?"

Galen dipped his head for a moment, but what he was thinking, Luke couldn't tell.

"Because we've made it personal, Skywalker. We killed one of his people. You remember why he was discharged from the Imperial Guard?"

Luke recalled the cursory briefing Galen had put together, explaining the man that was now tearing through Coruscant. He'd grow up in the slums as a criminal and joined the Imperial Guard to escape execution when he was 16. He'd been very good in the military, until his commander had inadvertently walked Korban and his men into an ambush. Korban had been one of the few who survived, and had murdered his commander on the basis of incompetence. The image of Korban nestled up to the body in the chair, putting his feet up on the man's severed head, still stuck in Luke's mind.

"He's not just going to want kill us, Skywalker," Galen said. "He's going to want to kick down our doors, break our limbs, and kill his targets in front of us so we know we failed before he cuts us open and watches as we bleed to death."

"Thank you for that charming mental image."

* * *

Korban walked into the small apartment he'd kept paid off for the times he needed to do work on Coruscant and was surprised to find it occupied.

"What you doing here, Pendrew?" He asked as he walked past the slightly graying Intelligence handler.

"I'm here with some… operational revisions." Pendrew said, giving Korban an askance look as the man stalked past him to throw his coat, armor, and shirt onto the small cot that served as his bed. Korban moved to the tiny fridge and drew out a bottle of liquor. He snapped the cap off and took a long quaff before turning back to look at Pendrew.

"Revisions, eh?" Korban walked back into the main room. "Like what?" He took another drink.

Pendrew sighed. "The higher-ups are calling blank slate. We're to discontinue all activity and report back for re-assignment."

It was so quite in the room that the sound of the bottle dropping through the air was audible before it shattered on the floor.

"You're kriffing joking, right? You've got to be joking." Korban said in utter disbelief.

"I'm not joking, Korban. We're done here."

"No. No, we are kriffing not done here." Korban said angrily as he paced aimlessly around.

"Yes, we are done here, Korban." Pendrew said firmly. "It's out of my hands. As far as the rest of the Division is concerned, we've already done enough to nearly jeopardize the entire war effort. And you've got no one to blame but yourself."

That made Korban stop.

"What did you expect, eh? You knew when you pulled me out of prison that you weren't putting me on payroll for my subtlety."

"What I _expected_, Korban, was for you to do your damn job." Pendrew hissed furiously, stabbing Korban in the chest with a finger. "I _expected_ a degree of sanity and competence that you have made clear you don't have."

"You knew I didn't have much of the first one, boss." Korban spat back, making the term sound like an insult. "But you also knew I had a lot of the second."

"So explain to me why you went crazy and left every single one of your targets unharmed to check on a dead man?" Pendrew hadn't yelled. He didn't do that. His voice actually grew calmer as he got angrier, and now he sounded like he was the most serene man in the galaxy. He shook his head. "It doesn't matter why, you can't change it. We're done. Pack up your gear and make sure your associate is ready to leave by tomorrow morning."

Korban turned and slapped the underside of the small metal table, sending it flying into the wall.

"You fraking kidding me, Pendrew!? Those Jedi schutas killed Troan, and you expect me to just walk away?!"

"Yes, that's what I expect, Korban!" Pendrew was doing the one thing he never did now. He was yelling. "I expect you to because if you don't, it's our necks on the line. We don't pull out now, the Council can have us executed for treason."

Korban turned away and stormed back into his room, dropping to his knees and descending into uncontrollable, hysterical laughter.

"Force's sake, Korban!" Pendrew roared in anger and desperation. "Are you listening to me?"

Korban took a long, deep breath, and his laughter slowly devolved into a breathless chuckling.

"Yes sir. I'm listening." He reached into a bag near his cot, and came back into the main room. "I get you're worried, but no one is going kill us for treason." His face twisted into a truly insane smile. "We'll do the killing." His hand shot out and shoved a large knife deep into Pendrew's chest, straight through his ribs and heart.

* * *

Anji could tell something was terribly wrong, so she had not moved more than a foot from Allana's side in the last few days. Allana herself wasn't sure what was happening any more. She'd received the news of what might have happened to her mother, and had quickly searched for her in the Force. She hadn't felt anything. No presence, no gentle, reassuring reach or touch. And while that did not necessarily mean the worst, that maybe her mother had to hide herself completely in all forms for her own safety, that possibility did little to reassure her.

She'd heard word that the man who'd attacked her mother had come here to Coruscant. That he'd broken into Uncle Jag and Aunt Jaina's safehouse, held their daughter hostage. That he'd fought and beaten Ben and his old, scheming girlfriend, and the mysterious, oddly friendly sith. That he was the most deplorable type of killer. That he was in all likelihood going to come here, because the other sith had killed one of his people.

She'd thought long and hard about it, and knew what she would do if she ever met him.

**Yeah, Mia can telekinetically block explosions with the Force when she's barely eight months old. My advice? Don't forget about her. She might become important later on. Or, you know, more important than she already is. I debated for a long time about whether I wanted to toss Allana into the deep end of the Korban arc, and finally decided to just go for it and see how well I can make it work.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Note: Well, here we are. Last chapter of the Korban episode. Man. I can't believe how much this thing I didn't even plan has become. Kind of astonishing when I think about it. I'm also amazed I got it done (I had a ton of class work this weekend). Anyway. Prepare yourselves. I do not own Star Wars. Please review, comment, or criticize. And most of all, enjoy.**

Star Wars

The Dark Return

Chapter 11

Lon Tannek leaned back into the bench, and sipped his cup of caf. He had maybe half an hour to himself before he needed to head in, and he spent that half hour the way he usually did: watching the city in the middle of Fellowship Plaza, with a cup of caf.

Today, however, something happened that was not at all usual.

A large gray gunship swooped over the plaza and made a beeline for the Jedi Temple. When it neared the Temple, a series of smoke trails shot from it. Lon didn't realize they were missiles until they exploded against the green transparisteel pyramids of the Temple and he felt the very edge of the blastwave. Scurrying from the bench with the quickly forming panicked crowd, he thought he saw someone jump out of the gunship.

* * *

"I seem to recall you saying that this was exactly what Korban wouldn't do." Jaina said as she rushed through the shaking hallways of the Temple.

"I have, on occasion, been wrong about some things." Galen said testily. He tapped his helmet. "Lyn? It's me. You've heard the… Yes, that's what I was thinking. Get the _Gladius_ in the air, bring the gunship down. The last thing Korban needs is air support."

"You named your ship '_Gladius_?'" Jaina asked slightly disbelieving.

"I didn't pick the name, Solo. My father did."

* * *

Korban slammed a Jedi against a wall to his right, and punched as hard as he could. He felt bone and skin give beneath his clenched hand, and pulled it back covered in blood and bits. The Jedi certainly wouldn't be getting up again. Another Jedi tried to come up behind him. A Twi'lek. Female.

He kicked out and sent her crashing to the floor, then drove his sword into her chest. Pulling the blade out, he turned and got back on track. Intelligence had had the maps to this place for a long time. And while he certainly wanted to empty the place of every last holier-than-thou lightsber-strapped hypocrite, he did still have some nagging loose ends pricking at him. And he knew where the Jedi would be keeping them.

* * *

Rory swung the gunship around as a salvo of missiles streaked into the Temple hangars. He saw CSF and GAS ships closing in. Flicking a few switches, he reassigned his targets, and let another salvo of missiles loose. Some found their targets and flaming wrecks crashed into the streets and pedways. Some pilots got lucky and dodged the missiles, which careened into buildings or traffic lanes.

Rory didn't particularly care about that. This was all about one thing: making the Jedi pay for what they did to Troan.

Rory opened up on the few remaining ships with the gunship's cannon, then turned the ship back to the Temple, just in time to see an Imperium Saber fly out of one of the burning hangars. It had to be one of the deserters. And only two of the ones who'd survived this long had lightsabers.

Rory diverted extra power to the engines. Whoever was in the that ship, he was going to make sure they died.

* * *

Korban dropped a screaming female Chadra-Fan to the floor, next to the Mon Cal Jedi Master. They'd been… easy. Disappointingly easy. That was wrong. This wasn't supposed to be easy. He was supposed to have to work to get what the Jedi and the Alliance owed him, owed Troan. He walked to the elevator doors and jammed a code-breaker into the keypad. After a few minutes, the doors opened, and he entered, preparing to descend and rip the heart out of the Galactic Alliance. Doing the same to the Jedi Order, that would be a bit trickier.

* * *

Alarms blared in the cockpit. The ship was missing an engine and slowly spiraling out of control while blaster cannons picked it to pieces.

Rory reflected that this could be going better. He pushed himself back from the controls and ran to the gun rack. Throwing open the door, he grabbed a missile launcher off the rack and waited for the moment the Saber would spin into view.

He saw a blur of grey and pulled the trigger. The backwash nearly sent him tumbling out of the gunship. He ran back to the cockpit to try and get the ship back under some semblance of control. Strapping himself in, his hands flew over the controls, turning the out-of-control spiral into a not-as-out-of-control descent. The gunship crashed heavily against the ground, and Rory felt his face slam against the controls. But he'd landed in one piece. And he was alive.

As he released the straps, he looked out the viewport and saw the Saber diving towards him, the trail of missile exhaust visible behind it. It looked like it was going to crash into him, and at the last second, he realized what the pilot was doing.

"You crafty karking schu-"

Rory was cut short as the missile burst through the cockpit and crushed his chest before it exploded in a gout of flame.

* * *

Korban screamed in frustration and punched the transparisteel again.

They'd played him. The Jedi had played him for a fool, and he'd walked right into it. They'd lured him down into the asylum block, the completely empty, utterly worthless asylum block, and shut down access from the surface. As he sat there, fuming, the BioCom went off. He knew what it meant, but he checked the readout anyway. Rory was dead.

Korban slowly walked towards the powered down elevator and forced his sword blade in between the doors. He shifted the blade and forced the doors open. He was about to go into the elevator when a security blast door came down over the elevator doorway and nearly crushed him flat. Dropping to his knees, he caught the edge of the door and held it steady. Tightening his grip, he slowly pushed himself back up to his feet, forcing the security door up with him. He readied himself, then thrust upwards with all his strength and dove into the elevator as the security door slammed back down into place. Korban reached up and tore the exit panel from the elevator's ceiling. He pulled himself out of the car, and looked up. He had a climb ahead of him.

* * *

"Now that's just unfair." Jaina said, gazing at security footage of Korban holding a blast door open with his bare hands. "How is this guy such a monster?"

"Cybernetics." Galen said. "Like I said, Intelligence loves their invasive implants."

"So what do we do now? He's not stuck down there, and he's certainly going to be steamed."

"It's fairly simple. We wait for him."

* * *

Korban tossed another Jedi against the wall. He'd been making his way to the main entrance, if only to pause a moment and get a plan together. He'd been beset by Jedi the whole time, and he wasn't even there yet. Almost, but not quite. He drove his sword through the Jedi's leg and sent him crashing limply to the ground with a haymaker. Pulling his sword out, Korban regarded the locked door in front of him. He had just the thing to get through it.

The door on one of the mezzanines of the Entrance Hall exploded in a gout of white flame. Korban charged through and leapt down to the main floor, triggering the automated security systems. Several droids emerged from various pillars, but did little to slow Korban down. He simply drew his pistol and blew their processors out of their heads.

Bullets, Jaina reflected. Why would this man be using bullets?

She silently leapt over the rail of the opposite mezzanine and moved into place behind Korban. She waited for a few minutes as he continued to dispatch the security droids. A touch in the Force let her know to move. She ran at his back, lightsaber in her hand, but unlit.

Suddenly Kroban whirled around, leveling the barrel of his pistol on her, and it was all she could do to not get shot in those few precious seconds before she lit her saber.

Then, as she reacted on muscle memory and tried to bat the tiny cones of metal that melted into nothingness on contact back at Korban, barely managing to intercept them all with how fast he could fire the gun, she realized why he was using bullets. He closed the distance, his fire stopping briefly as he dropped the empty magazine out of his pistol. Jaina took that opportunity to dive in between the mass of pillars lining the Hall.

"So that's how you're gonna do it, eh?" Korban roared. "Too scared to face me when my back's not turned?" He probably would have gone on, but Galen interrupted him by nearly slicing him in half. Korban spun away from the saber and swung out with his sword, knocking Galen's arm out of position. Korban ran in, thrusting the point of his blade forward. Galen quickly gestured with his hand and drew on the Force. Korban went sliding into a pillar, smashing against it hard enough to crack the marble. He shifted his sword to his bad arm, taking his gun in his good one, and fired at Galen as he backed away into the pillars. Jaina reached out, trying to feel him in the Force, and realized that she couldn't. Somehow, he had shut himself down within the Force, to detection in at the least. An echoing pop and light grunt of pain did little to help her figure where exactly Korban had gone. She eased out from the pillars to gaze down the hall, Galen doing the same at the other end. Her danger sense prickled and she turned in time to see Korban's furious face before he kicked her in the stomach and sent her flying into the open area of the Hall. She gasped and coughed, drawing lost air into her lungs. Something felt crushed, and something else felt broken. Korban stalked towards her. Galen was running from the back end of the Hall, but he wouldn't make it in time.

Then, there was a screech of blasterfire, and a bright red bolt burned into the left side of Korban's face, driving the man to his knees as he let out a scream of agony. Looking in the direction the shot had came from, Jaina saw Aelyndra, rifle shouldered, firing as she advanced through the main entrance.

Korban, unbelievably, got back to his feet. The left side of his face was lightly charred, and a bit of his scraggily beard looked like it was on fire, but that didn't seem to bother him all that much. He returned fire, forcing Aelyndra to dive behind a pillar. Korban started advancing until Galen came up behind him and burned a long cut down his back. Korban whirled around and fired into Galen's helmet, the bullets bouncing off the metal, but still doing their job of buying the agent some breathing room. He sent Galen flying into the ground with a punch to the chest, then returned his attention to Aelyndra, diving back into the mass of pillars and slowly advancing between them, trading bullets for blaster bolts. Jaina slowly forced herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth as she felt something shift around inside her that was not supposed to. Korban was clearly in close range, as she heard a lightsaber moving and reflecting off whatever the man's sword was made of. A loud snap and cry of pain drew her gaze, and she saw Aelyndra tumbling back out of the pillars, blood seeping from her right shoulder, her left leg flopping limply. She let out a burst of Force Lightning from her one usable hand as Korban approached her. The man took a few steps back and stood there for several seconds as the lightning washed over him. Then, impossibly, he began to move. It was slow going, but he made his way to Aelynrda, and stomped down, crushing her hand beneath his boot. He kneeled down in front of her.

"It was you, wasn't it?' He said softly. "You're the shag that killed my pals."

His face slowly grew into a smile, then shifted back to the expression of cold fury. "Well, we can't just kill you, now can we? You don't get off that easy." He stood up and turned, firing at Jaina as he did so, sending her behind the pillar she'd propped herself against. Korban fired down the hallway, and while the pillars blocked her view, a cry of pain let her know he'd found his target, and the realization of what he planned to do struck her.

He obviously knew who Aelyndra and Galen were. Figured they probably meant something to each other. So he was going to kill Galen in front of her, then finish her off. Jaina moved through the mass of pillars till she was behind Korban. The agent was taking his time, occasionally firing down the hallway and eliciting another yell of pain from Galen, who she still couldn't see. She creeped out back into the Hall proper, and started to move up behind-

Korban spun around and fired two shots at her, blowing her knees out from under her. A small, sadistic smile lit the man's face as he swapped magazines and prepared to turn back to Galen.

That was when the droning of another lightsaber finally became audible, and Korban's expression turned to shock as a glowing blue blade exploded out of his chest. The man dropped to his knees, gasping and coughing up red smoke, then the saber was harshly yanked out, sending him falling to back on the floor and revealing his killer.

Allana.

* * *

Korban looked at the little girl, who gazed at him with a contempt and carefully concealed hatred that made him marvel at its potency, and started laughing.

"You start 'em young, don't you?" He weakly called to Solo. "Only way to do it." He spoke from personal experience there. He could hear other Jedi flooding the hall. What had seemed so long a fight hadn't been all that long in reality. He took a rattling, gasping breath, half the air pouring out through the gaping hole in chest, and continued laughing.

"What's so funny?" A voice asked him. He tilted his head to look. One of the Jedi from the Senate Building. Skywalker's kid.

"You are." He said. "All of you." He was interrupted as a hacking cough built up in what was left of his chest, and a bit of vaporized blood steamed past half-burnt lips. He kept laughing. "You really think… you're better… than me." The disgusted look the young man gave made him laugh even harder. "You, me, her," he pointed limply to the girl, who he now realized he recognized. "We're all just killers, end of the day. Frak, this little one here, she killed me over something I don't even know if I did proper." His laughter was interrupted by another cough. "Yeah, you all can really stand on you karking high horse, can't you? Least I don't act like the people I kill weren't worth a thought." His laughter resumed, all the more powerful now that he could see the disconcertion on the Skywalker kid's face.

He looked up at the ceiling, seeing instead the dark clouds of the slums, and wondering if that homeless little kid, fighting for scraps in the alleys and trying to find someone to depend on, could have ever imagined that he'd end his life like this.

**Yep. Allana kills Korban. What A Twist! **

**Also, remember how I said Korban had a bit of Jubal Early in his character? Yeah, that bit finally shows itself in earnest. It's also setting up a bit of the theme here, that probably wasn't obvious at all before.**

**I'm kind of going to try and challenge typical Star Wars perceptions with this story. I can't imagine it'll be as good as, say, the Republic Commando series of books (every Star Wars fan should read those, by the way) but I'm going to try. And that little speech from Korban marks the real start of that.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Note: Well, first of the "filler chapters" cause I haven't figured out a better name for them. They will obviously have more important content than impotent filler. They'll be mostly focused on loose end wrap-up and character interaction and development. But I can't think up a word that describes all that simply. So these are "fill chapters." I do not own Star Wars. Please review, comment, or criticize. Most of all, enjoy.**

Star Wars The Dark Return

Chapter 12

"So," Wynn Dorvan said, gazing out the window of his office at the city, "What do we tell people about this?"

"I sincerely hope you're kidding when you ask that question, Chief of State," Galen said, shifting in his seat and fixing the man with a quizzical stare that didn't carry through his helmet's visor. "The press angle we ought to take should be obvious."

"Enlighten me."

"It's business as usual. The same radicals and extremists and whatnot that you've always had just getting their hands on things they shouldn't have and getting uppity."

Dorvan laughed. He turned from the window and sat back in his chair.

"So that's your recommendation. Lie." His tone and expression made it clear exactly what he thought of that proposal.

"Not to everyone, obviously. Let a few necessary people know the truth of things. Military officers, whatever senators have key resource contributions, military or otherwise. But as for the general public, yes. We lie." Galen said this as though it should have been the first idea Dorvan had.

"I sincerely hope you have a good reason for thinking that's a good idea."

Galen leaned forward, his helmeted face inches from Dorvan's.

"The last Sith who attacked this world hid and schemed. They played your society's systems and were content to wait in the shadows. The Imperium has no interest or need of any such tactics," Galen leaned back, reaching up with pick away some dirt beneath one of his fingernails with a talon. "Your public already fears and misunderstands Jedi and Sith alike. So hold a press conference today, and tell the Alliance at large that thousands of Sith, at the head of well-trained army of billions, will soon make themselves known in the worst of ways. And that they have no ambitions beyond butchering their way to this world and burning it to the ground."

He didn't need to continue. Dorvan could easily imagine the panic that would undoubtedly erupt in the wake of such news. Panic that would be the last thing the Alliance would need if it was to soon be engulfed in yet another war. Panic that would surely empower the Sith who would stand at the head of the army.

Dorvan leaned forward and cupped his face in his hands, sighing heavily.

"I'm glad you're seeing reason, Chief of State."

* * *

Luke looked down from the Council Chamber at the scorched wreckage that still lined Fellowship Plaza. Scorched police ships, pieces of buildings hit by stray cannon blasts and missiles, faint outlines of marked bodies.

"We never should have come back."

* * *

"What was that?" Aelyndra asked as the elevator descended. She shifted on her injured leg, tightening her grip on the crutch. She'd refused any sort of prolonged medical treatment, instead falling back on basic first aid and healing trances to try and get herself back into fighting shape.

"What was what?" Galen asked in reply, his tone making it clear he genuinely didn't understand her.

"You, telling Dorvan to keep all the Alliance in the dark about what's coming?" Aelyndra's face was the picture of righteous indignation.

"It's me being pragmatic. You know as well as I what the Imperium would do with mass panic. How much of an advantage that would grant them." Galen said testily.

"So, you're grand plan to reveal everything to everyone fifteen years ago, that's been canned?"

"Take a guess, Lyn."

Aelyndra balled her hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall.

"Now I have to ask: What was that?" Galen parroted her.

"It's not you, Galen." She said angrily, with a tint of despair running beneath.

He supplied her with what she assumed was a blank look. She couldn't see through the visor of his helmet. "The torture, the lying. Vrael," She gestured to the second lightsaber that hung, unused, on his belt. "You never would have done any of this before. It's like…" Her face screwed up, and her voice dropped to a slightly ashamed whisper. "Half the time, I'm not even sure who you are anymore. It's like everything that made you _you_ died back on the Throneworld." Galen shook his head as the elevator reached the lobby.

"Trust me, Lyn. I know the feeling." He said.

He walked out, leaving Aelyndra in the elevator car, staring in disbelief.

* * *

Allana shifted the practice saber over in her hands.

It wasn't the weapon she'd killed Korban with. That one, she had taken off the unconscious body of another Jedi. And yet, the saber in her hand still felt like the one she'd run him through with.

She wasn't sure what to feel. What to think. She could tell that all of the adults and Knights and Masters had the same problem. Anji nuzzled her head against Allana's arm and purred emphatically.

The sound of the doorbell ringing outside her quarters startled her. The saber fell out of her hand as she turned towards the door. Anji's head snapped to it, the nexxu growling slightly before she tipped her head up and sniffed the air. Her manner shifted instantly, from predatory and protective to excited and welcoming. Allana made her way to the door and opened it.

Standing on the other side of the threshold was a tall, red-haired woman. One sleeve of her flight suit hung limp halfway down her arm. The edge of a rancor tooth poked over her left shoulder, the weapon it was attached to sitting in a leather holster slung over the woman's back. Green eyes that swam with unspent tears sat over a familiar nose and warm smile.

Allana and Tenel Ka quickly wrapped each other in crushing hugs.

Yet, as she stood there, with her mother who was miraculously alive, something intruded on her. A feeling.

Guilt.

* * *

"I have to say, I think that whole mess went fairly well, all things considered." Ben said, leaning back against the door of Vestara's new quarters.

In light of their recent actions, Galen, Aelynrda, and Vestara had been transferred out of their cells in the Asylum Block, and into the more ordinary secondary quarters on the same level. They were all still ostensibly untrusted and under watch, but after all that had happened, most were willing to give them some benefit of the doubt.

"I'd hate to see what you consider to be a poor outcome, then." Vestara said, carefully lowering herself to the small cot at the back of the room. Neither she nor Ben nor anyone Korban had tangled with was back to peak condition yet. Ben could still feel a slight burning and shifting sensation in his knees when he tried to run. The only person who seemed more or less untroubled by his injuries was Galen. But that was no surprise.

"I think we almost did, a few years ago," Ben responded. "We were stuck with a crazy dark side entity who was the source of all conflict in the galaxy, and she was trying to mutate us." It amazed him how flippant he could let himself be about it now. He was slightly worried about how Vestara would respond, but the small smile that touched her face let him know she understood.

"Our one last bit of good work together." She said in agreement.

"Maybe not our last." Ben offered.

The smile vanished. Ben decided to just put it out there.

"Listen. I know we didn't part on the best of terms," He began, "But I've had four years. Four years to think about everything."

"And what did all that thinking do for you?" Her tone was almost mocking. That was how he knew her heart wasn't in it. Beneath it, she was scared. Maybe even hopeful.

"That you were lying." The look on her face was priceless. "About the fact that you were _always_ lying." He would have continued, but she raised a hand and stopped him cold.

"Don't, Ben. Just don't."

"Why?"

"Because I learned a long time ago that I could never be what you…" She stopped and closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath before she went on, "What we both wanted me to be."

His expression was absolutely unreadable. He pushed off the wall and walked through the door. He was across the threshold when he turned around.

"Don't sell yourself too short."

* * *

Galen entered his room to find Aelyndra sitting on his bed. Years ago, this would have been a prelude to something highly enjoyable. Now, it seemed as though neither one of them knew what to do in the others' presence.

"I couldn't just… leave it at that, today." Aelyndra said without preamble. "That outburst in the elevator. I don't know what…" She paused, and ran a hand over her mouth in contemplation. "I just don't know anymore."

"That makes two of us." Galen said. "To be honest, it's been so long since I've been in control of myself… since I've been able to _be_ myself, I don't know who that is any longer."

Aelyndra tried her best to keep the horror she was feeling at his words from showing. If he was saying what she thought he was saying, if the Imperium had done what she now truly thought they'd done… it was little wonder that Galen would now stoop to torture and cover-ups if she was right. And she wasn't about to ask him if she was. She wouldn't do that to him, not after he made it sound like he'd barely just got free.

As she looked at him, and tried to keep her face straight, she realized something.

She wanted to see him. The actual Galen, not the face the Imperium had built and forced on him.

"That helmet of yours," She started uncertainly, "Can you take it off without, I don't know, choking to death on air?"

Galen must have realized just as she did how ridiculous and yet horribly possible that idea sounded, because the two of them devolved into uncontrolled fits of constrained laughter. It wasn't funny at all, but at the same time it somehow was, and neither of them could even explain why.

"To be honest, I don't know. They never took it off, and I haven't really had the time to try myself." Galen said when they finally got control of themselves again.

"I'd say you have the time now."

Aelyndra got up from the bed and slowly approached him, ready to stop at a moment's notice. She reached for the helmet as she drew close to him, but he reached up and grabbed one of her hands.

"You know it won't be the old, handsome me underneath this, right?" He said, his joking tone hiding a terrible seriousness.

"It'd be more you than this."

He let her hand god, and she slowly reached around to the back of the helmet, and tripped what felt like a switch. There was hiss of escaping air that was barely visible, jetting out around Galen's neck and from the mouthpiece of the helmet. The large grey discs planted in the sides whirred and rotated in their casings, and the helmet itself seemed to extend and grow outwards in segments. Aelyndra slowly reached from the back and lifted the helmet off.

The first thing that struck her were the tattoos. Dark red sigils penned into the top of Galen's skull, running halfway down his forehead. They denoted an assassin of the Sith. The skin of his face seemed as dead as the rest of him, a sickly pale pallor that was disrupted halfway down by a glaringly obvious cybernetic prosthetic jaw. Whoever had rebuilt Galen hadn't even bothered with synthetic flesh. A long, unfamiliar scar cut across the top of his right cheek.

But the thing that held her gaze most, that made her realize just what he'd been through, all that he'd lost, was his eyes. One was completely unfamiliar; a prosthetic that stopped well short of being a convincing replacement. Red symbols, lights and jagged circles rotated and flickered and swirled within the pupil and iris. His other eye, that had seemed in the old days to switch colors between the yellow so typical of Sith and an almost silver hazel seemed as though it had been trapped on the yellow since the day Aelyndra had fled the Throneworld without Galen, at the latter's insistence. The gaze of those eyes, everything those eyes had once contained, once said of the man who bore them… not a trace remained. In their place was the gaze of a man who had spent the last fifteen years an unwilling servant, a man who had done things beyond his control that would haunt him for the rest of life.

"I can't look that hideous, can I?" Galen asked, snapping Aelyndra out of her thoughts. A sly smile lit his face, and his eyes seemed to brighten. "I mean, I couldn't get much worse than I already was." That simple sentence, that little, self-deprecating quip, so very much a product of the old Galen, brought a smile to her face. She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand.

"You certainly couldn't."

**Well. This was far more… dark/depressing than I meant it to be. Still, I feel like I managed to end it on a slightly happy note.**

**In case anyone cares, I've had the helmet scene vaguely in my head for what feels like three years. Feels good to finally put it down and get it out there.**

**Also, in case it isn't obvious, the Imperium isn't quite as appearance—obsessed as the Lost Tribe. I plan to somehow have someone make that point in the story someday. And yeah, I didn't actually kill Tenel Ka. I'm not consigning any actual, major characters to off-screen (for lack of a better term) deaths. I was kinda helped by that Hapan-Politics-Coup-Prevention-Clause, but trust me. If/when I actually kill someone, there will be zero doubt as to whether or not they are dead.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Note: Word of warning. Updates for next week might stall out. The reason can be summed up in three words: F-ing. Finals. Week. But, I'm determined to at least get the next major arc set up. So, I'll be introducing a few new faces, mostly bad guys. One (Imperius) is going to play prominently in the next arc, and there's an physical aspect to him that I can't stress enough. If this were a movie, Imperius'd be played by Mark Strong (Sherlock Holmes, Kick-Ass, Body of Lies, lots-of-good-movies). When you think of Imperius, think of Mark Strong. Doing a British accent.**

**I do not own Star Wars. Please review, comment, or criticize. Most of all, enjoy.**

Star Wars

The Dark Return

Chapter 13

As she sat on the floor of the Room of a Thousand Fountains, Aelyndra could feel her before she heard her footsteps. She slowly let her eyes open and relaxed from her meditative position. Resting her hands on her legs, she turned to see the new arrival.

"I did not mean to interrupt." Vestara said apologetically, backing away.

"It's alright," Aelyndra assured her. "Besides, us former Sith girls ought to stick together." She pushed herself up off of her legs, feeling her bad knee twinge and send a prickling fire down one leg.

"I'm not sure how 'former' I-" Vestara began unsuredly.

"Trust me, I know a 'Me' when I see one." Aelyndra assured.

"And what does being 'You' entail?" Vestara asked with a hint of haughtiness and affront.

A sad smile drifted over Aelyndra's face.

"That you're a Sith because you don't know what else to be. And you're just waiting for some other way to come along."

Now it was Vestara's turn to give the other a sad smile.

"If you know anything about me, you'd know that my other way came and went a long time ago."

"It's never too late to change," Aelyndra offered, "and as I understand it, the Jedi are big on second chances." Vestara shook her head, laughing slightly.

"So what are you doing here?" She asked.

"I could ask the same thing." Aelyndra said slyly.

"You could. But I believe I asked first." Aelyndra laughed at that.

"Fine. I had a… fairly personal talk with Galen." Aelyndra hesitated before continuing. "And I saw what was left beneath that helmet of his." Seeing Vestara's expression, and wondering for a second why she cared enough about the girl's opinion of her to clarify, she did so anyway. "The Imperium doesn't raise its people to be quite so… judgmental about appearances as your people were, in case you were thinking that."

"So what are you doing up here, then?"

"Because I saw everything they took from him that wasn't just physical."

They lapsed into a long, unbearable silence.

"How did you two meet?" Vestara asked gently.

"Believe it or not, he saved my life."

* * *

She went on then, to describe it all. How she'd implicated the prospective apprentice of a highly feared Sith Lord in an "unsanctioned murder" at the Academy. How the Sith Lord had gathered up a group of prospective wash-outs, and offered them a deal: find and kill the acolyte who'd made the witness talk, and they could go home with a Sith owing them the slightest of favors. Refuse, and they'd be killed and replaced by someone willing to take the opportunity.

They'd jumped Aelyndra in a fairly secluded corridor as she'd been returning from another Trial. And while she was good for a girl fresh from the slave pens, she was still fairly untrained, and it was ten-against-one.

She'd never learned exactly how Galen had known to intervene, but she'd been backed into a corner when he'd dove into the survivors from behind, taking most of them down before they even knew what had happened, and without killing a single one of them. It was days later that she'd learned he was the son of one of the most famous Inquisitors in the Imperium, and that a certain Sith Lord was under investigation.

* * *

"You were a slave?" Vestara asked with great surprise.

Aelyndra slowly drew back the sleeve of her black suit over her right arm. A brand, an ancient Sith symbol denoting property, stood a stark white on her red skin.

"For the first thirteen years of my life," She said grimly. "My mother always knew I was Force-sensitive, but neither of us was ever willing to make something of it."

"Why not? If you could become Sith, you could have-"

Vestara was cut off as Aelyndra started laughing.

"I would have been a slave desecrating the halls of sacred Sith sites. By the time I could have done anything, I might never have been able to find her again. Sometimes we didn't even get to keep our names when we changed hands. I used my abilities discreetly, to keep us together, but that was all I ever did."

"I'm sensing an 'Until.'"

"There certainly was an 'Until,'" Aelyndra said, turning to gaze at one of the fountains, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "The last master we had was… well, one of my most common jobs was to keep his wife out of his room when Mother was in with him. The last time, she got past me, and everything went out of control. She tried to kill Mother, our master stopped her, and when he saw what he'd done to her, he went mad and killed Mother."

"And what did you do?"

An angry smile danced over Aelyndra's face.

"I distinctly remember being told that his body was still smoldering a week later."

* * *

From there, she returned to the story of Galen. They'd made brief contact again after he'd saved her, and several more times after. Life in the Sith Academy wasn't all that conducive to forming friendships, let alone a budding romance. Things continued in the manner of passing meetings and calls well after they were selected by their Masters. Galen had gone under a fairly powerful yet eccentric Lord who would one day go on to reach very high places. Aelyndra had found herself under the tutelage of an aged Sith Pureblood, a woman more interested in uncovering the ancient secrets of her people than gaining personal power, and in ensuring those secrets would be passed on to all the Sith that might come after her.

When they had become Knights, meeting became far easier, and what had been held back and simply budding, blossomed. It had quickly become the two of them against the galaxy, carving out a personal place for themselves in the structure of the Imperium, aided occasionally by their old Masters. They'd built connections, contacts, allies, enemies. They served the Imperium as they were required. Until Galen had his vision. His vision of the truth of Emperor Vaugrus. They had prepared to flee, then. Setting up to go on the run, leaving everything behind and making a pact with the sworn enemies of their people. But something went wrong. Galen's old master had somehow learned of their plans, and had been there to try and stop them. She had been waiting in the Saber, attached to a dummy freighter they'd planned to use to draw off pursuit, when Galen had charged into the hangar, Guardsmen and his master on his heels. He'd told her to take off, to leave without him. She refused, tried to stay, but Galen had planned ahead. He set the Saber to disconnect and head out remotely. She could still remember how it felt, as Galen's master held the freighter in his grip with the Force and how she had been thrown against the restraints as the Saber suddenly disconnected and shot into lightspeed at predetermined coordinates.

* * *

"It was funny," Aelyndra continued, "He had this look about him the whole time I knew him. Like, he knew that everything we did was for some… greater good or something." She laughed under her breath. "It was idealism, was what it was. The kind of stuff the Academy and the Sith Order was supposed to brake out of all of us. But he held onto it, somehow. All the years I knew him, was with him, he held onto it." She paused there, drawing in a deep, shaky breath. "Then I saw the face beneath that helmet, after fifteen years. And I didn't see it. Whatever they did to him, whatever they made him do, they finally managed it. They broke him."

* * *

Darth Imperius stepped back from the holo-projector, the image of the arid world of Klatooine slowly spinning, the plans lined out in detail.

"Any questions?" He posed to the seated Darths. The greatest in the Sith Order. The Dark Council of the Imperium.

Darth Baal, a mountain of a man, his wide muscled frame almost overreaching his throne by itself without the help of his armor, his hard face covered in scars, rose from his seat and descended to the hologram.

"I have an issue I would like to voice," Baal said, his deep, scathing voice ringing in the chamber. He reached out to touch a single point of data, and the image shifted to that of a cascading eruption frozen in glass. "This… Fountain… it is intrinsic to the natives' culture, their beliefs, correct?"

"Your point, Baal?"

"Why leave it untouched? Why not use the opportunity it represents? Destroy it and cripple your foes."

Imperius began to shake his head sadly.

"Because I am neither a sadist, nor a short-sighted fool, Baal." Imperius had never taken great care to guard his distaste for the majority of his fellow Councilors. His reputation was such that only one had ever called him on his disrespect. The man had found his seat on the Council vacant in the worst way shortly thereafter. Though, in Imperius' own defense, he had been attacked first. "My purpose is to make our presence known. To send a message to our enemies before we begin this war in earnest. If I destroy the Fountain, I leave the people with nothing more to loose. Eventually, they would rise up and destroy whatever presence we might leave behind on the world, and all we achieved, any messages we might have sent, rendered moot. Useless. So forgive me if I seek a less tumultuous course of action."

Baal's hands curled into fists, his face slowly twisted into a furious sneer. But he wasn't about to bring Imperius to task for his insults. Not when the Imperium stood on the precipice of its goal. He contented himself with a loud, contemptuous snort and returned to his seat.

"If Baal represents the only complaints," Imperius said, "I've one more matter to bring before you." He was about to begin when another Councilor stood.

Darth Mortemus, tall, wiry in every aspect of his stature yet strong enough to bear an ancient set of obsidian Sith battle armor, his face lost in the depths of his hood, spoke out in his usual hushed yet dangerous tone.

"If you are to make your appeal again, Imperius, then save your breath and our time. This is the goal the Imperium has pursued for five thousand years, and we are set upon our course. We will not alter it."

The rest of the Council nodded and murmured in agreement. Imperius cast his gaze around the chamber, slowly despairing as he saw the looks of conviction on the faces of his fellows. Only one, the one he least expected, seemed less than enraptured with the decision. Darth Thanaton.

Or perhaps he was simply containing his emotions. Thanaton had never been prone to speeches or displays, however slight.

Imperius slowly lowered his head, gathering his thoughts. He hoped against hope that he could make his fellows see sense soon, before they set the Imperium and Alliance upon a path that they would never be able to leave.

"If such is the will of the Council," Imperius said, brining his gaze back up, "then it shall be done."

**So, this is the last of the current session of filler chapters. The next chapter will start the next major story arc. I have kinda vague plans for how and what I want to have happen, but considering that almost everything in Korban's arc was unplanned, I'm not incredibly worried. Just mostly.**

**A quick question for the readers, though.**

**How would you feel about a very minor character from the actual books, who is confirmed dead, making a re-appearance in a slightly unusual manner? I won't say who and I won't say how, but I'm throwing it out there. How would you feel?**


End file.
